


To That Faraway Sky

by cywscross



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Genius-but-hopefully-not-over-the-top!Tsuna, Language, Nana!Bashing, OCs - Freeform, Twin!fic, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/cywscross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsuna’s never craved the spotlight like Ienari does, preferring to keep quiet and stay on the sidelines, so it’s only natural for his brother to stand out so much more. But being different – being himself – means a mother who calls him useless and a brother who bullies him without remorse, and Tsuna doesn’t have enough tolerance to overlook either for very long. He won’t change who he is just to make them like him though so he takes the only option left – he leaves. Three years later, Reborn arrives to train Nari, only to discover that there’s one Sawada missing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
> 
> Author’s Notes:  
> 1) Look at the warnings. In most fics (including my own), it’s always Iemitsu who’s the bad guy when it comes to Tsuna’s parents so I thought I’d switch it around this time. I’ve never particularly liked or disliked Nana but the way she always calls Tsuna useless, whether it’s true or not, and coupled with her airheaded nature (nobody can be that clueless) has always irritated me. In this fic, I’ll just be taking that several steps further.  
> 2) I chose Ienari because it’s both a Tokugawa Shogun name as well as the only name that can be shortened by Nana and others with sounding awkward (ie. ‘Na-kun’ and ‘Nari’). I just can’t see him being Yoshimune or something and being called ‘Yoshi-kun’. All I think of then is cute dinosaurs.  
> 3) Please don’t come to me with complaints about how Tsuna is too smart or perfect. I will try to balance it out so that he won’t give off that feel but it’s in the warnings as well so don’t like, don’t read.  
> That’s about it... yuck, this note’s practically taken up two-thirds of a page, so on with the story now.

**~5 Years Old~**

 

                Sawada Tsunayoshi was five years old when he climbed his first tree.  More importantly, he was five years old when he lost his grip on the branch he was sitting on and fell five feet towards unforgiving ground, only for a burst of flames to erupt from his hands, pushing back against the grass and stopping him from breaking his neck.

 

                No one saw.  Tsuna had been outside in the backyard, trying to alleviate his boredom because Nari had kicked up a fuss again when Tsuna had asked to be taken to the bookstore, so their mother had ushered Tsuna out the door and told him to ‘go play’ before bustling back inside and coaxing Nari’s tears away with the offer of ice-cream.

 

                A dull spark of pain had welled up in Tsuna’s chest at the sight but he was used to it so he hadn't complained, choosing instead to find something new to entertain himself with.  The tree had seemed like a good idea – he hadn't ever been that high up before.

 

                Now though, now he had something even better.  The fall had been scary, and the flames he had emitted had only been enough to slow his fall so he had ended up scraping his knees and elbows anyway.

 

But sitting on the ground, Tsuna was more than a little fascinated by the glow of orange cradled in his palms, the flame fluttering gently against his skin as if it might go  out if the wind blew too hard.  Strangely enough, Tsuna could feel a warmth in his heart as well, as if the flame was somehow connected, and everything around him seemed so much clearer.  Not sharper as if his vision had gotten even better, but... brighter, as if the world had suddenly been dipped in light.

 

And then everything began to dim.  His head became fuzzy, his limbs felt heavy, and a wave of exhaustion washed over him.  The last thought he had before he dozed off was that now he wouldn't have to go to the bookstore anymore to find something that would interest him.

 

**~6 Years Old~**

 

                “Na-kun!  Tsu-kun!  Breakfast is ready!”

 

                “Coming!”  Nari called from the next room before a door banged open and rapid footsteps thundered by.

 

                In his own room, Tsuna carefully folded his hands together and extinguished the dancing flames he had summoned before grabbing his schoolbag and heading downstairs as well.

 

                “Good morning, Mom,” Tsuna said quietly as he took his seat at the table.

 

Their mother smiled distractedly as she ran a comb through Nari’s blond hair.  “Good morning, Tsu-kun.  Now Na-kun, do try not to get too dirty playing soccer at school today, okay?”

 

Nari grinned cheekily up at her.  “Aw Mom, I can’t avoid that.  How can I get good if I don’t play my best?”

 

Nana sighed but an indulgent smile made its way onto her face.  “Alright, just make sure you don’t trip from running too hard.”

 

Nari laughed and shot a mocking look at Tsuna.  “I’m not Tsuna, Mom!”

 

Nana giggled, glancing at Tsuna in amusement.  “I suppose not.  You be careful too, okay Tsu-kun?”

 

Tsuna scowled a little in return but nodded anyway.  It wasn't his fault he was so clumsy.  He sometimes got lost in his head, thinking too deeply about a book or the latest shape he had been able to mould his flames into or even the school computer system’s firewalls that he had been thinking of trying to bypass lately, and he would end up tripping over his feet.

 

“You know, Mom,” Nari was saying.  “The other kids at school gave Tsuna a nickname.  They call him Dame-Tsuna, because he can’t even walk down the street without tripping at least once!”

 

Nari sniggered and Nana shook her head at Tsuna, a good-natured smile lighting her features.  “Mou, Tsu-kun, you really should work on your clumsiness.  Maybe Na-kun could help you – he’s a little prodigy at sports!”

 

Tsuna made a face when Nana turned away to give Nari a hug before sitting down and starting on her own breakfast.

 

He didn't want to be like Nari.  Sure, two years in school and his brother was already very popular, but what was so great about being surrounded by so many people all the time?  Tsuna certainly preferred walking home without other kids chattering in his ear every minute.

 

Of course, this also brought along the side-effect of not having many friends, or any if Tsuna was honest.  He had a few people he could partner up with if the teachers wanted them in groups for an activity but most tended to stay away from him because Tsuna was notorious for getting at least half his homework wrong or not completing his finger-painting assignments.

 

Was it his fault that he had no interest in dipping his fingers into paint and trying to draw when he _knew_ he had all the talent of a hippo when it came to art?  And it was so much more fun to scramble the numbers on his math worksheets and write down each resulting answer’s reciprocal than to just do what it said on the paper.  Who cared what one plus one was?  So long as he did enough to pass, it shouldn't matter, and his answers weren’t necessarily incorrect, just... not right under those circumstances.

 

“Oh yes,” Nana abruptly perked up, clapping her hands together as a wide smile stretched her mouth.  “Remember to come home straight away today.  There will be a surprise waiting for you when you get back!”

 

Nari instantly demanded to know what it was, all but bouncing in his seat as he quizzed their mother.

 

Tsuna eyed the genuine look of joy on Nana’s face and allowed a small smile of his own to curve his lips.  Their mother only ever looked that happy when their father was coming home.

 

The last time Iemitsu had visited was almost two years ago and Tsuna missed him terribly.  He had been thinking of showing their dad his flames – he hadn't even told Nana or Nari yet so it could be a secret between the two of them.

 

“Time for school, boys!  Quick, or you’ll be late!”

 

Tsuna snagged a last piece of toast and put his plate in the sink before zooming out the door after Nari who had already bounded ahead.

 

“Have a good day, Mom,” He called over his shoulder, receiving a wave right before the door closed behind him.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Papa!”  Nari cried the moment the door swung open to reveal a grinning blond.

 

                Tsuna paused in the gateway as Nari took a flying leap into Iemitsu’s arms, their father lifting him easily into their air.

 

                “Oof, you’ve gotten heavier, Nari!”  Iemitsu teased.

 

                Nari pouted and flexed one of his arms.  “That’s muscle, Dad.  My teacher says I’m one of the strongest in the class!”

 

                “Really?”  Iemitsu reached behind him, still supporting Nari with one arm, and produced a brightly-wrapped present, complete with a bow.  “Well then, my super-strong son deserves a super-cool gift from Papa-”

 

                Iemitsu didn't even get to finish before Nari released a whoop and all but tackled the gift, sliding back to the ground and beaming eagerly at the bright green wrapping paper.  “Thanks, Dad!  I’m gonna open it inside, ’kay?”

 

                Iemitsu laughed and ruffled Nari’s hair.  “Go ahead then.  Your brother’s being all shy and quiet – we’ll be along in a bit.”

 

                Nari ran inside, but not before shouting back flippantly, “Dame-Tsuna barely got a pass in today’s spelling test!  He shouldn't get a present for that!”

 

                Tsuna mentally rolled his eyes at both his father’s silliness and Nari’s declaration.  He had taken all the letters of the words on today’s test and made new words in Italian, and the teacher had ended up giving him only fifty percent.  It wasn't his fault he didn't care one way or another whether he could spell ‘cat’ or ‘is’ or ‘at’ correctly.  He had found an Italian-English dictionary in the living room bookshelf a few weeks ago though, and coupled with the Japanese dictionary as well as the fundamental understanding of English that he already had, he had started teaching himself Italian.  Today, he had wanted to see if he had some of the more basic words down.

 

                A gentle hand landed on his head and Tsuna blinked before peering up at his father.

 

                “Hello, Dad,” He greeted, shifting a little from foot to foot.  So maybe he _was_ a little shy, but he hadn't seen his father in a long while – he could be forgiven.  Should he say something more?  Ask after the man’s health?  “How have you been- Ack!”

 

                He yelped when strong arms scooped him up and he automatically latched on to his father’s neck.

 

                “What’s with the stiff manners?”  Iemitsu huffed with a ridiculously sulky expression on his face.  “Your old man demands a hug, not a ‘how have you been’!”

 

                Tsuna bit back a snicker and carefully wrapped his arms as much as he could around his dad’s broad shoulders instead, letting go after counting to two.  That was usually how long Nana’s shortest hugs for Nari were, and Tsuna normally didn't like being very touchy-feely anyway.

 

                But Iemitsu pulled him back when Tsuna tried to wriggle away, giving him one of those big engulfing hugs that a tiny part of him just might’ve missed.

 

                “Now how have _you_ been, Tsuna?”  Iemitsu asked when he finally drew back, brown eyes studying Tsuna intently.  “Are you enjoying school?”

 

                Tsuna hesitated, and then shrugged.  “It’s... boring.  Just a little.  But I find stuff to do.”

 

                Iemitsu stared thoughtfully at him, and it was times like this that reminded Tsuna that his dad wasn't _really_ an idiot.  Well, he was, but he wasn't a _complete_ idiot.

 

                “What’s this I hear about your spelling test then?”  Iemitsu raised a stern eyebrow at him, and then ruined it by assuring, “Of course, you’ll still get your present!  Papa’s just curious.”

 

                Tsuna really did roll his eyes this time, but he obliged by twisting around and digging into his bag for the aforementioned test.

 

                “I just made a few mistakes,” Tsuna grumbled, handing it over.  When no response came for several drawn-out seconds, he glanced up nervously.  Fifty percent was nothing to boast about, even if he had been playing around and not taking it seriously.

 

                Iemitsu was staring blankly at the test, motionless as he scanned the ten words Tsuna had written down.  Five of them were in English – giving him an automatic five out of ten – but the rest were switched around to form simple Italian words instead.

 

                “Dad?”  Tsuna ventured tentatively when twenty seconds ticked by without a reaction.

 

                Iemitsu blinked, and then calmly reached out and flicked Tsuna on the forehead.  Tsuna jerked back, startled.

 

                “Lying when it isn’t necessary is a sin, Tsuna,” Iemitsu lectured mildly.

 

                Tsuna sweatdropped.  Wasn't lying in general a sin?

 

                “When’d you start learning Italian?”  Iemitsu continued lightly, no censure in his voice.

 

                Tsuna scrutinized him for a moment longer for any signs of disapproval – he should’ve known his dad would figure out what Tsuna had done; Nana didn't know Italian after all so the dictionary must belong to Iemitsu – before relaxing and scratching his head sheepishly.  “I found an Italian-English dictionary on the bookshelf in the living room, and I know enough English to use my Japanese dictionary to help.”

 

                Iemitsu stared at him for a long second, looking almost stunned, and then Tsuna suddenly found himself being hugged again.

 

                “Da- _ad_ , you're strangling me!” Tsuna squirmed away and his dad finally let him back down onto the ground.  He scowled when Iemitsu tousled his hair.  It was gravity-defying enough without his father helping it along.

 

                “MY TSUNA’S A GENIUS!”  Iemitsu boomed out, not caring at all that several passersby on the street out front jumped and eyed him with alarm before giving their house a wide berth.

 

                “Dad!”  Tsuna flushed.  “I’m not!  I was just bored!”

 

                Iemitsu grinned down at him as they headed into the house.  “Whatever you say, Tsuna.  Is it fun though?  Wouldn't you rather move up a grade or two?”

 

                Tsuna shook his head vigorously.  “I’m fine where I am.  I don’t want to stand out.”

 

                His dad tilted his head.  “Why not?  What’s wrong with being special?  From what I hear, your brother’s already a star at sports.”

 

                Tsuna frowned.  He knew he was smarter than Nari but it didn't matter in the end.  He had learned that much from their mom – over the last few years, Nari’s ease at picking up soccer and basketball and baseball had always been more important than Tsuna’s tinkering with paperclips and wires and making little – useless – contraptions to pass the time.

 

                And Tsuna liked doing whatever he pleased with his intelligence, with no restrictions placed on him.  He didn't think he could do that if he skipped a few grades where the teachers would probably hover over his shoulder and try to push him into doing work that didn't have any point to it.

 

                “I don’t want to be special,” Tsuna told his father solemnly.  “I just want to be me.”

 

                Iemitsu’s eyes widened briefly before an odd smile fluttered at the edges of his mouth, gone as quickly as it had appeared.  A goofy grin followed immediately after and Tsuna found himself being hoisted into the air once more, his father proclaiming exuberantly about the ‘super-cool gift’ he had gotten for him.

 

                Tsuna sighed in exasperation but tangled his fingers in short blond locks as he was placed on Iemitsu’s shoulders.  Sometimes, he felt as if _he_ was the adult and his dad the kid.

 

**{1}**

 

                The next day was a Saturday.  The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it was an overall disgustingly cheerful day.

 

                Tsuna was sitting on the porch out back, immersed in the books his dad had gotten him on computers.  They were basic enough, fit for children perhaps a few years older than Tsuna, but Iemitsu had guessed correctly when he had chosen them.  Tsuna wouldn't have rejected picture books but he would’ve definitely been disappointed.

 

                Nari was inside playing with the video games their dad had bought him.  Actually, Iemitsu had bought a game and a book for each of them but Nari had shot Tsuna a sullen ‘I’m going to throw a tantrum’ look, and since Tsuna didn't really play video games in the first place and Nari’s book looked just as interesting as his own, he had quickly suggested a trade.  His brother had happily agreed.

 

Their mother was currently in the kitchen making lunch for five.  Iemitsu had left half an hour ago – something about picking up a guest from the airport.

 

                Fifteen minutes later, Tsuna heard a car pull up and he glanced up from his book when he heard the front door open.  He heard his mother and brother’s voices, as well as an unfamiliar one that spoke in indistinct but friendly tones.

 

                Tsuna closed his book and made his way back into the house.  Upon entering the living room, he found a grey-haired man, Italian and dressed in a light blue shirt, shaking Nana’s hand.  Nari was standing off to the side, shifting impatiently and shooting meaningful glances at the paused game.

 

                Tsuna inwardly frowned.  Stupid Nari – his brother should know better than that.

 

                “And this is Tsunayoshi, my eldest by seven minutes!”  Iemitsu was suddenly standing beside Tsuna, one hand resting on his shoulder.  “Tsuna for short!  Tsuna, this is my boss, Timoteo.  He’s decided to take a vacation with me this year.  Say hello.”

 

                Tsuna swiftly found himself on the receiving end of a rather intense hazel gaze and he straightened instinctively as he took a step forward.

 

                “Hello, Timoteo-san,” Tsuna greeted politely, and then, just because he could – and really, how many Italians was he going to meet in his lifetime – he stumbled out in a thick accent, “Benvenuti a Namimori, Signore(1).”

 

                Timoteo blinked, looking taken aback, and for one horrifying moment, Tsuna thought he had completely butchered the simple phrase, but then Timoteo broke out into a delighted, surprised smile while Iemitsu released a bark of delighted laughter.

 

                “Grazie(2), Tsunayoshi-kun,” Timoteo returned amiably the word rolling off his tongue in a way that Tsuna hoped he’d be able to imitate himself in a few years.

 

                “That’s my boy!”  Iemitsu chuckled before informing Timoteo proudly, “Tsuna’s excellent with languages.”

 

                Tsuna blushed but tossed back mischievously, “Dad, lying is a sin.”

 

                Iemitsu’s eyebrows shot up in surprise but a fond smile quirked his lips a second later.  “Brat.  I’m not lying though so there’s no problem.”

 

                Tsuna reddened even further and opened his mouth to protest because knowing Japanese, basic English, and a handful of Italian didn't exactly make him _excellent_.

 

                “Don’t show off, Dame-Tsuna.”

 

                Tsuna stopped, forgetting what he had been about to say for a fraction of a second before snapping his mouth shut and turning to throw a bewildered look in Nari’s direction.

 

                His twin was glaring petulantly at him and every vibe Tsuna got from Nari was a mix of anger and borderline jealousy.

 

                “Nari,” Iemitsu said from behind Tsuna, a note of reproach in his voice.  “Don’t call your brother that.  And Tsuna was only testing out his Italian.”

 

                Nari pouted exaggeratedly and their mother hurried forward, placing her hands on Nari’s shoulders.  “Oh it’s fine, Iemitsu.  Na-kun’s just feeling a bit left out.  Shall we start lunch?  Timoteo-san, I do hope you like Japanese foods.”

 

                Timoteo sent a last kind smile at Tsuna before focusing on Nana’s rambling as she led the way to the kitchen.

 

                Tsuna rubbed the back of his neck, feeling oddly like he had just been blindsided.  He felt... uneasy, though for what reason he couldn't say.  Nari got annoyed with him several times a week – it was nothing new.

 

                “Tsuna, you alright?”

 

                Tsuna glanced up and offered a small smile for his father, shoving his perturbed thoughts to the back of his mind.  “I’m fine, Dad.  Let’s go eat.”

 

**{1}**

 

                Tsuna had planned to tell their dad about his flames on Sunday night before he went to bed but-

 

                He sat at the top of the stairs and listened to Nari’s sniffles downstairs.  A surge of irritation welled up inside him before he could suppress it.

 

                _Stop crying!_   He fumed.  _There’s nothing to cry about!  They’re just flames – I can do it too!_

 

                To be honest, Tsuna wasn't even sure why he was angry, or why he didn't simply march downstairs and show everyone that he had the same sort of flames as Nari.

 

                But Nari had shown them _first_ , a blaze of orange exploding around him when a cat had hissed at him (Nari disliked cats, Tsuna disliked dogs – go figure) and Nari had tripped and fallen backwards.

 

Iemitsu had all but tripped over himself to get outside, and Tsuna would have to be blind not to see the pride in their father’s eyes at the sight of the fading flames.

 

And judging by the weighty look his father and Timoteo had exchanged, one that had made Tsuna wary, both were perfectly aware of just what those flames were.

 

                So here he was, curled on the stairs and letting a tiny ball of fire hop from fingertip to fingertip as he tried to come up with an explanation as to how his father would know what these flames were.  Maybe his father could do it too?  And his father’s boss as well?

 

                It made him suspicious.  He had tried burning a twig once with his flames and the piece of wood had crumbled into ash in mere seconds.  He knew what he literally had in his hands was dangerous, so why would two men – obviously friends but also employer and employee and otherwise supposedly unrelated – who worked in the construction business know about them, and even looked like they had been expecting Nari (or possibly Tsuna) to produce them too?

 

                One – construction workers producing flames at will was a common occurrence.

 

                Two – they weren’t construction workers.

 

                The former didn't seem very likely.  The latter begged another question: if not construction workers, then what were they?

 

                Tsuna sighed soundlessly and extinguished the flame he was playing with before clambering to his feet.

 

                Once more, he considered telling their father about his own flames.  But the excitement he had felt before had died.  Part of the reason he had wanted to show Iemitsu in the first place had been because Tsuna had wanted to share something exclusive with the man.  Their father encouraged Tsuna’s love of books but he also typically related more with Nari and his sports, playing catch with Tsuna’s brother outside.  Tsuna had been invited to join in a few times in the past but catching balls had never been his forte and he hadn't seen the _point_ of it either.

 

                And now that Nari had shown to have his own flames as well, it clearly wasn't something he could share between himself and their father.

 

                He heaved another sigh and shrugged away his disappointment.  Ah well.  At least he could still say he had better control over the flames.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Dad likes me better,” Nari announced on their way home three days after the Flame Incident.

 

                Tsuna hummed disinterestedly as he flipped a page in the book he was reading.  A moment later, his head snapped up when said book was yanked away and dropped into a shallow puddle nearby.

 

                “Nari-!”  Tsuna snarled in a sudden burst of uncharacteristic anger.

 

                Nari jumped, looking distinctly nervous, but when Tsuna only balled his fists and stalked forward to pluck the book off the ground, the blond squared his shoulders and jutted out his chin defiantly.

 

                “Serves you right, always reading your books,” Nari retorted.  “I was talking.  You should pay attention to me.”

 

                Tsuna stared at his brother in thorough disbelief.  “ _What_?”

 

                Clearly mistaking Tsuna’s question as a response for his previous statement, Nari elaborated confidently, “Dad likes me better ’cause I have those flames.”

 

                Tsuna’s eyes narrowed.  “I thought you said you couldn't remember what you did.”

 

                Nari flushed.  “W- Well, I can’t remember very well but I do know I have them.  And Dad said I’ll be able to do more when I get older.  I'm just too young to control them right now.”

 

                Tsuna gazed woodenly at his twin before continuing on his way.  Nari had to hurry a few steps to catch up.

 

                “Didn't you hear me?”  Nari demanded.  “Dad likes me better!”

 

                “‘Dad likes me more’,” Tsuna said flatly.  “‘Dad likes me better’ is semantically incorrect.”

 

                Nari stomped his foot.  “Oh shut it, Dame-Tsuna!  Stop pretending to be smart.  Everyone knows you’re not.  Your homework and tests are aro- atrocious.”

 

                Tsuna walked on, not rising to the bait.  This only seemed to infuriate Nari even more.

 

                “And we both know Mom likes me best,” Nari said condescendingly.

 

                Tsuna glanced sharply at his brother.  “Nari, what exactly is your point here?”

 

                Nari floundered for a second before he drew himself up and glared at Tsuna.  “You’re an embarrassment, you know.  All my friends agree.”

 

                Tsuna rolled his eyes and looked away again, ignoring the unexpected ache twisting his gut.  “Is that all?”

 

                He made to turn the corner and then staggered sideways from a rough shove before thudding heavily onto the ground, wincing at the sting in his palms as much as for the book that flopped a few feet away.

 

                “What is your problem, Nari?!”  Tsuna snapped, patience fraying.

 

                Nari loomed over him, teeth gritted and resentment burning in his eyes.

 

                “Why can’t you just act _normal_?!”  He yelled.  “Always reading and still getting everything wrong and then trying to impress strangers with _languages_.  You sounded like an idiot; Timoteo-san didn't say anything only ’cause he felt _sorry_ for you!  God, why do I have such a _loser_ for a brother?  Everybody laughs at you at school!  You’re just an _embarrassment_!  No wonder Mom and Dad likes me better!”

 

                Tsuna frowned at the near-maniacal glint in his twin’s eyes but said nothing as Nari abruptly spun on his heel and left, not looking back once.

 

                Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, not bothering to rub at the grass stains on his clothes.  He was more concerned about his book – it was one of the new ones from Iemitsu.

 

                Cradling the paperback, Tsuna hurried home.  Nana’s blow-dryer would help.

 

                Unbidden, his mind slipped back to Nari’s biting words.

 

                So he was an embarrassment, was he?

 

                His jaw tightened, and for a single, painful but wildly incensed moment, he was truly tempted to show his twin that he had absolutely nothing on Tsuna when it came to producing flames.

 

                He took a deep breath and shook it off.  Nari was his brother – maybe he had had a difficult day at school.  Tsuna could forgive him for his outburst.

 

                The thought didn't erase the hollow pang in his chest though.

 

**{1}**

 

                Tsuna waved silently as Iemitsu and Timoteo pulled out of the driveway and sped off towards the airport.  Their father had promised to call at least once a month, and though Tsuna knew that the man would eventually break that promise, he firmly reminded himself that Iemitsu had never failed to call at least once every three months, and always took the time to speak to all of them.

 

                He turned back into the house, pausing to let Nari push past him before heading upstairs himself.

 

If anything, his brother had only gotten worse in the past two weeks.  Tsuna wasn't even sure what it was he had done wrong.  He had even tried to tone down his... _creativity_ at school for the sake of getting along with his twin, completing his homework without mistakes and scoring a high mark in another test, but Nari only got angrier.

 

Tsuna was now known as a cheater to a large portion of his class.  He had no proof but he knew it had been Nari who had spread that rumour.

 

So Tsuna had stopped trying.  He had never cared what people thought of him, but if he was going to be alienated either way, he’d rather be Dame-Tsuna than Cheating-Tsuna.

 

He made a face when he heard Nari’s request for eggplant at dinner and Nana’s ready concession.  Their mother was a great cook but it couldn't change the fact that Tsuna’s least favourite food was eggplant.

 

With an aggravated sigh, he continued towards his room.  Maybe Nana would remember that she had also agreed to make Salisbury steak tonight, Tsuna’s favourite.

 

He wasn’t surprised when he came down later and found no steak waiting for him.

 

**~7 Years Old~**

 

                “What’s wrong, Dame-Tsuna?  Practicing your jumping jacks?”

 

                Tsuna ignored his brother’s jeers and the smatter of laughter that followed as he sprang upwards again, fingers just brushing the book stuck in one of the forked branches of the tree in front of him.

 

He blew out a frustrated breath.  He should’ve been more careful – going to the bathroom and leaving his book bag behind in his classroom had been stupid.  Of _course_ Nari would snatch one of his books and toss it up a tree.

 

It wasn't even that high up but Nari was almost half a head taller than Tsuna now and had a longer reach, not to mention Tsuna had been cursed with below average height.  Heck, half the kids in the vicinity could probably reach the book but all of them were also Nari’s friends.  They usually worked together to make Tsuna’s life miserable.

 

“Why are you herbivores crowding?”

 

A hush fell over the courtyard.  Tsuna didn't waste time turning around.  He’d jump off a bridge before he’d willingly ‘crowd’ with Nari’s friends, all of them bullies of some sort.

 

“We were just leaving, Hibari-san,” Nari muttered grudgingly, and Tsuna heard the sound of rapid footsteps hastening away.

 

Tsuna paid it no mind, bending his knees and jumping again.  His fingers didn't even touch the book this time and he almost stumbled when he landed, panting slightly from exertion.

 

Before he could start weighing the pros and cons of scaling the tree, a tonfa came flying over his head, smacking against one corner of the book with pinpoint accuracy and dislodging the paperback from the branches.

 

Tsuna yelped and lunged forward, instinctively snatching both book and tonfa out of the air before either could hit the ground.  He struggled a little with the weight of the metal weapon, almost dropping it before firming his grasp.

 

And then he stopped and stared dumbly at the two items.

 

Had Hibari Kyouya – most feared student in the entire school, runner of a one-man disciplinary patrol, and punisher of those who committed even the smallest of infractions – just helped him out?

 

“Herbivore, my tonfa.”

 

Tsuna quickly whirled around and passed the weapon back to the taller boy now standing beside him.  He knew most kids were afraid of Hibari but Tsuna had swiftly figured out that so long as you didn't break any school rules – laid down by both Namimori Elementary and Hibari – then Hibari would leave you alone. In that aspect, he was very fair, keeping the peace by making sure everyone toed the line.

 

No one seemed to know how old Hibari was either – though many hoped that the fearsome boy would soon be old enough to graduate to junior high where he’d be _their_ problem instead – but Tsuna had managed to bypass the school computer system’s security half a year ago and knew for a fact that the self-appointed prefect was only about two years older than Tsuna with his birthday in May, not really due to graduate for another few years.

 

“Thank you very much, Hibari-senpai,” Tsuna sketched a polite bow for good measure.

 

Hibari grunted noncommittally, his gaze falling briefly on the book in Tsuna’s hands.  One eyebrow rose but the prefect said nothing and turned away, stalking back across the courtyard without another backwards glance.

 

Tsuna shook his head in perplexity and glanced down himself.  Sun Tzu’s _The Art of War_ stared back at him.  It was a library book from the public library.  It was slow going because he hadn’t been able to find a Japanese translation for the whole thing, only a choice between English and Chinese, and the latter wasn't a language he had learned.

 

Yet.

 

Hmm.  Maybe he’d start on that.

 

Examining the book and finding it none the worse for wear, Tsuna headed back into the school.  He’d have to be more careful with his belongings from now on.

 

**{1}**

 

                Tsuna smiled in satisfaction as he finished off his math homework with a flourish.  There, that should give him a sixty percent.  Although just thinking about how frustrated the teacher was going to be when she saw all the imaginary numbers he had surreptitiously worked into his homework was enough to make him smirk.

 

                Not that she’d realize what they were.  Tsuna had long ago come to the conclusion that elementary teachers must not have made it very far with their math degrees since none of them had seen what Tsuna had been doing since first grade.  Granted, he was only in second grade now so maybe his future teachers might catch it.  It was still great fun to test them and watch them scratch their heads and ask him how he could make so many mistakes.

 

                “Herbivore, the roof is off-limits to students after school.”

 

                Tsuna started, twisting around to take in the newcomer.  He had been too engrossed to hear anyone coming.

 

                “Is it?”  Tsuna hastily got to his feet.  He’d never actually spent time on the roof before but going home was...

 

Sometimes, it didn't feel like home anymore.

 

“I’m sorry,” He apologized.  “I didn't know.  I’ll leave now.”

 

Hibari watched him coolly as he packed up, tonfas held loosely at his side.

 

“Well, have a good night, Senpai,” Tsuna said when it seemed as if Hibari wasn't going to attack him now that he was actively leaving.

 

                “Herbivore.”

 

                Tsuna paused in the doorway that led back down into the school.  “Yes?”

 

                “You are the only student in Class 2-B to sign up for the upcoming summer remedial classes,” Hibari said bluntly.

 

                Tsuna blinked.  Yeah, he’d planned that.  An entire summer stuck with Nari who was becoming more and more unbearable with each passing day was not how he wanted to spend his vacation.  Going to school where’d have six glorious hours to himself was far better.

 

                “Er, yes,” Tsuna nodded slowly, not seeing where this was going.  It struck him as bizarre that he didn't even find it strange for Hibari to know he would be in remedial classes.  Heck, the older boy probably had the entire summer schedule of every failing student memorized to the nth degree.

 

                Hibari stared hard at him as if he thought Tsuna was being purposefully dense.

 

                “You were reading _The Art of War_ ,” The prefect finally pointed out after a long awkward silence.  “In English.”

 

                Ah.  So that was why-

 

                Tsuna coughed, feeling heat creep up his face even as he shuffled his feet.  “I- I’m good with languages, that’s all.”

 

                He didn't even need to look up to see the skepticism in Hibari’s face.

 

                “Hn,” Tsuna jerked up when Hibari swept past him.  “Unfortunately, it is not against school rules to fail on purpose.”

 

                Tsuna blinked owlishly after the retreating prefect.  So Hibari _wasn't_ going to report him?  Or nag at him?  Then again, Hibari nagging would probably be a sign of the apocalypse.

 

                Tsuna sighed.  “What a weird guy.”

 

**{1}**

 

                “Remedial classes, Dame-Tsuna?”  Nari guffawed at the dinner table as Tsuna silently handed the teacher’s note to their mother.  “Only you!  You might as well redo a grade!”

 

                Tsuna flicked a dismissive look in his twin’s direction before focusing on their mom.  Nana only smiled and patted Tsuna on the arm.

 

                “It’s alright, Tsu-kun,” Nana assured.  “Mama doesn't expect you to do very well.”

 

                Nari snorted.  “More like he _can’t_ do well even if you expect him to, Mom.  _I_ got good marks in everything.  And I'm a shoe-in as a regular on the school soccer team.”

 

                Nana brightened.  “Really, Nari-kun?  Oh, I’m so proud!  Lucky for Mama to have a sports star son to balance out a useless son, ne?”

 

                She giggled airily as she passed a plate of pork chops to Nari, and then proceeded to ask after Nari’s newest soccer exploit.

 

                Nari shot a triumphant, gloating look at Tsuna before boasting about the goal he had gotten earlier that day.

 

                Tsuna mechanically finished the rest of his dinner before gathering up his bowl and chopsticks and leaving the dining room.  As he placed them in the sink, he quietly cleared his throat, feeling as if his dinner had gotten stuck somewhere between his esophagus and stomach.  Something painful burned in his chest, squeezing his heart in a vice grip.

 

                He couldn't quite convince himself that it was just heartburn.

               

**{1}**

 

                Remedial classes were about as interesting as normal classes – that is to say, not at all.

 

                But there was no Nari to bully him, no other students attempting to scare him into giving up his lunch or money or trying to push him around.  He spent the majority of class time reading one book or another behind his textbooks and largely avoided the other handful of students also taking remedial classes.

 

                Lunchtimes during those weeks were perhaps the most astounding occurrences in Tsuna’s entire life, and that summer was perhaps the most fortunate, simply for the fact that that was when he gained his very first friend, and with the most unexpected of people possible.

 

He had taken to spending the lunch hour on the roof, either doing his homework, reading, or just lazing about.  On his third day at school, he had been joined by a certain prefect.

 

Tsuna had scrambled to snuff out the orange flame he had been shaping into a cat when he had sensed someone stepping out onto the roof behind him, and he had been slightly apprehensive when he had spotted Hibari making his way to the only other bench on the roof, completely ignoring Tsuna’s existence as he lied down, closed his eyes, and promptly went to sleep.

 

He hadn't even been sure if the prefect had seen what Tsuna had been doing.

 

But after several minutes of no berating or threatening or you’ve-broken-some-obscure-school-rule-I’ll-bite-you-to-death-ing, Tsuna had gradually relaxed again and picked up his latest reading material.

 

Lunch had passed without further disturbances, and when the bell had rung, Tsuna had packed up, Hibari had woken up, and both of them had headed back to class (or in Hibari’s case, patrol, because Tsuna was fairly certain that the prefect would sooner give out free passes for breaking school rules than fail at anything) without really acknowledging each other at all.

 

It became a routine.  Most of the time, Tsuna would arrive first and Hibari would appear later, and both of them would settle down on their respective benches, one reading, the other sleeping.

 

Other times, when Hibari arrived first, Tsuna would occasionally find the prefect leaning against the side of his bench, a book in hand, and since they both knew that it was technically _Tsuna’s_ bench Hibari had chosen that day, Tsuna would take it as an invitation to join Hibari.

 

They’d usually sit back to back with a bench between them.  Sometimes, Tsuna would say hi and Hibari would nod back, but more often than not, they’d simply settle down with their respective books and or lunches and spend the hour together in content peace.

 

Three times, only three, the two of them had even discussed one of their books, exchanging ideas and opinions for the entire hour before parting ways again.  Tsuna had been pleasantly surprised when he had discovered that Hibari, while pulling perfect marks at school, was also smarter than his grade requirement.

 

It was an odd acquaintance overall but Tsuna didn't feel the need to push for more.

 

Until the last day of remedial classes.

 

**{1}**

 

                Tsuna fiddled with his pencil as he glanced over at Hibari’s slumbering form.  The prefect reminded him of a cat with his naps.

 

                Remedial classes ended today, which meant that the rest of the summer would have to be spent in the house with Nari and his mother or spend the day wandering the streets of Namimori.  He couldn't even go to the library for very long because Nari and his friends would find him there and get them thrown out.  Again.  And then they’d try to take Tsuna’s belongings if Tsuna couldn't run fast enough.

 

                Not to mention... well, he could admit that he’d enjoyed his time on the roof with someone else’s company.  Hibari had become a solid presence in Tsuna’s life, and Tsuna had gotten comfortable with having the prefect around.

 

                It would be nice – and a novelty – to spend a bit of time with the older boy outside of school, maybe grab a snack or- or-

 

                What exactly did one do when hanging out with other people?

 

                Frankly, Tsuna hadn't the faintest clue.

 

                “Herbivore, you’re staring.”

 

                Tsuna jolted, zooming back into reality and finding a pair of slitted grey eyes observing him.

 

                He blushed, ducking his head.  “Sorry.  I was just thinking.”

 

                Hibari surveyed him for a moment longer before leaning back and closing his eyes again.  Tsuna thought that was the end of the issue so he was understandably stunned when the prefect spoke up a minute later, effectively stepping into personal territory.

 

                “What about?”

 

                Was the world coming to an end?  He checked the sky for raining elephants.

 

                “Um, our lunchtimes, mostly,” Tsuna answered honestly.

 

                They fell into a companionable silence for the next few minutes.  Tsuna swallowed hard and drew on his courage.

 

                “Hibari-senpai?”  He prodded cautiously.

 

                Hibari didn't make a sound but Tsuna got the feeling he was listening anyway.

 

                “Remedial classes end today,” Tsuna continued.  “Do you- Do you want to hang out sometime?  Over the rest of the holidays, I mean.”

 

                A thick silence ensued.  Tsuna bit back an apology.  He didn't regret asking.

 

                “...I do not ‘hang out’ with anyone,” Hibari intoned, rising to a sitting position and stretching languidly as he set his feet down on the ground.

 

                Tsuna drooped in disappointment.  “Oh.  Well that’s okay-”

 

                “I will take lunch with you tomorrow at twelve,” Hibari cut him off, already heading for the door.  “At the teahouse one block from here.”

 

                Tsuna gaped after him for several dumbfounded seconds before he perked up and a silly grin spread over his face.

 

                He wouldn't go so far as to call them friends.  But Hibari clearly didn't mind spending time with him, and that was good enough for Tsuna.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Mom, I’m going out for lunch,” Tsuna announced as he hurriedly checked his bag.  Wallet, key, brand-new phone (something that had come in the mail from their dad – one for him, one for Nari).

 

                “Okay, Tsu-kun,” Nana acknowledged without looking up from the newspaper she was reading.  “Have fun!”

 

                “Where’d you think you’re going?”  Nari called out when Tsuna rushed past his brother and three of Nari’s friends who were also on their way out.

 

                “Lunch!”  Tsuna tossed back, too happy to pay much attention to Nari today.

 

He ignored the flurry of footsteps behind him that signaled yet another chase and instead focused on sprinting to the teahouse.  Nari wouldn't be able to pick on him once he met up with Hibari.  He didn't mean to use the prefect like that but if some form of protection came with the lunch invitation, Tsuna would take it.  He didn't particularly feel like getting knocked to the ground today.

 

He rounded a corner and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the teahouse up ahead.  Hibari was nowhere in sight though so Tsuna would just have to take refuge inside and hope his brother didn't cause a scene.

 

Three steps from the door, a harsh grip on his shoulder almost yanked him clean off his feet and he ended up staggering backwards before hitting the ground with a muted smack.

 

“No need to run, Dame-Tsuna,” Nari taunted as his three friends gathered around.  “It’s almost time for me to eat.  You should be nice and give your brother some money.”

 

“You have your own money,” Tsuna returned coldly.  “Cut this out, Nari.”

 

Nari laughed.  “You say that _every time_.  You’d think you’d have learned by now.  Get a clue, Dame-Tsuna.  Or were you just not listening?  How many times have I told you to learn to listen to me?”

 

Tsuna’s eyes narrowed even as his heart thumped against his ribcage.  He wasn't scared, per se, but these confrontations always made him feel sick and tired.

 

“Get over yourself, Nari,” Tsuna stared evenly up at his twin.  “You’re not as important as you think you are.”

 

He hid a wince when a shoe prodded him none-too-gently in the back, really more a kick than a nudge.

 

Nari seemed to swell with outrage.  “You can’t talk to me like that!  You’re just a pathetic loser-”

 

Tsuna stared wide-eyed when Nari broke off into a shriek as a tonfa caught him in the side and tossed him to the ground like a ragdoll.

 

“Is there a problem, herbivores?”  A frigid voice interrupted and Tsuna’s death grip on his bag unconsciously loosened up.

 

“No problem, Hibari-san,” Nari spat out from the ground, pressing a hand against his ribs even as his face twisted in rage.  “We’re just fooling around.  Or is that against your rules too?”

 

Hibari’s gaze sliced across the group and even Nari shrank back a little, looking like he might’ve wanted take some of his words back.  The prefect strode forward and they hastily parted for him as he came to a stop in front of Tsuna.

 

“What are you doing on the floor, Sawada Tsunayoshi?”  Hibari borderline-glared at him.  “Our reservation is at twelve.  It is twelve-oh-two.  Get up.”

 

Tsuna mentally gawked as he scrambled to his feet, adjusting his clothes as he stood.  This was the first time Hibari had called him by name, and in front of other people too...

 

He glanced around, noting the dropped jaws and looks of disbelief.

 

“Come,” The prefect all but commanded, and Tsuna trotted after the older boy, entering the teahouse without further incident.

 

“You are a weak herbivore,” Hibari told him plainly once they had been seated and two cups of tea had come.  At first, Tsuna wasn't sure why no one questioned two kids coming to eat at a restaurant alone, and then he remembered who he was with.  “Twin or no, he is your younger brother.”

 

Tsuna nodded, absently taking a gulp of his tea.  He glanced at Hibari.  The prefect looked irate.

 

“Why do you not put him in his place?”  Hibari demanded.

 

“He’s my brother, Senpai,” Tsuna reminded him.  “I'm not going to do anything drastic to him.”

 

Hibari scoffed, evidently not thinking this to be a very good reason.

 

Tsuna tilted his head, scowling ever-so-slightly.  “You’re very talkative today, Senpai.”

 

Hibari’s gaze instantly narrowed, and as if to prove him wrong, the prefect clammed up for the rest of the meal.

 

Tsuna didn't mind long silences, but as he speared another takoyaki ball, he wondered somewhat guiltily if Hibari had just been trying to help him in his own roundabout, critical way.

 

“Please come again,” The waitress said as they paid and got up to leave.  The woman actually looked a bit nervous, especially when her gaze slid over to Hibari.  The prefect’s influence certainly extended quite far.

 

Once they were outside, it didn't take long for Tsuna to realize that they were heading back to his house.  It probably should’ve bothered him more that Hibari knew where he lived.  As it was, it just made him feel even guiltier when it occurred to him that the prefect was quite possibly walking him home so no bullies would approach him.

 

“Senpai?”  Tsuna started tentatively.  A flash of impassive grey.  “I’m sorry.  I didn't mean to- to shut you down like that.  But Nari’s always a bit mean.  I'm used to it.”

 

Hibari frowned near the end but while he didn't look like he was at all pleased with Tsuna’s assessment of Nari, the line of the older boy’s shoulders did ease and Tsuna knew he’d been forgiven.

 

By the time they reached his house, Tsuna was happily describing the sushi restaurant he always walked past on his way to the Namimori Library.

 

“I’ve never actually eaten there before but everyone says it’s really good, so maybe we could eat lunch there tomorrow?”  Tsuna plastered on his best puppy-dog eyes.

 

Hibari twitched and looked away.  Tsuna grinned impishly when the prefect capitulated anyway with a gruff, “There had better not be any crowding herbivores.”

 

Tsuna’s grin widened.  “Don’t worry.  There’ll probably be other adults around but most kids are out playing, even at lunchtime.  It is summer vacation after all, and I heard that the owner’s son is one of the boys in my class.  He has a lot of friends but he’ll definitely be out at the park playing baseball.  He loves that sport.”

 

“Oh?  Tsu-kun, who is this?”

 

Tsuna froze, and then spun around to take in his mother.  “Ah, Mom, um, this is Hibari Kyouya, a- a friend from school.”

 

Tsuna took it as a good sign when Hibari didn't contradict him.  An elated sort of giddiness expanded in his chest.

 

Nana gasped, staring wide-eyed at Hibari.  “You’re really friends with Tsu-kun?  Oh I’m so relieved!  I was starting to think no one would want to befriend my useless son!”

 

Any joy Tsuna had felt fled in the span of a heartbeat.  His face seared with crimson humiliation even as his gaze involuntarily rose to catch Hibari’s reaction.

 

The prefect’s eyes had darted over to him, and for one suspended moment, Hibari’s disbelief was blatantly apparent.

 

Somehow, it only made Tsuna feel even worse.

 

Nana was still babbling on obliviously.  “You have no idea how grateful I am-”

 

“I do not spend time with useless people,” Hibari interjected in a clipped tone of voice.

 

Tsuna’s mother practically sagged in disappointment.  Tsuna had to hold back a flinch.  It was ridiculous how much more Hibari’s words hurt compared to Nana’s typical careless views of him.

 

“Oh, well,” Nana sighed.  “I suppose it was only a matter of time-”

 

Again, she was cut off as Hibari turned sharply to face Tsuna.  “Sawada Tsunayoshi, I will meet you at Takesushi tomorrow at noon.  Do not be late.”

 

Tsuna stilled, not even managing a goodbye as Hibari gave Nana one last cursory glance before walking away.

 

“Isn’t that great, Tsu-kun?”  Nana chirped brightly.  “You finally have a friend!”

 

Tsuna barely heard her as he continued staring after Hibari.

 

He’d never had a friend before, and he hadn’t cared that he didn't.  He had his books, he had his mind – that was really all he needed.

 

But now that he did have one, even if it was in the loosest sense of the word and took the form of the scariest kid in the entire school, he...

 

He didn't think he’d be able to give it up.

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1)Benvenuti a Namimori – Welcome to Namimori  
> (2)Grazie – Thank you
> 
> I like this version of Kyouya – he’s close enough to his older self but is still influenced by Tsuna at a younger age. Not as hard around the edges.
> 
> Anyway, good news – originally this chapter was around sixty-five pages long and I was planning to post all of that at once since it covered all of Tsuna’s years before he leaves, as is implied in the summary. But I thought about it and it really was too long, so I’ve cut it in half, which also means that the next chapter is done! I’ve never had that happen beforeXD So I’ll post the second chapter later on and get started on the third.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
> 
> Author’s Notes: *Grin* So for those of you expecting Yamamoto or one of the other Guardians next – nope! For now, it’ll just be Tsuna and Kyouya. The others will show up one by one eventually but Yamamoto’s actually one of the last Guardians to properly make an appearance.  
> And in case people either haven’t read the warnings for whatever reason or don’t know what it means, THIS IS GEN, meaning NO PAIRINGS, besides the obvious (ie. Nana/Iemitsu). If you know me, then you’d know I’m an overall gen writer. So no yaoi, no het, no threesomes, no harems, no whatever else you can think of, just no. Tsuna and Kyouya are/will become really close friends/brothers.

                “What is Dame-Tsuna doing?”

 

                “Th- That’s Hibari-san!  Why are they walking together?”

 

                It was lucky Tsuna had never been concerned with what other people said because they were saying a lot right now.

 

                “Don’t you have a reputation to maintain, Senpai?”  Tsuna enquired as he changed his shoes.  Hibari was leaning against the row of lockers next to him, arms crossed and glowering at anyone who dared to give them more than a passing glance.

 

                The prefect paused to give him a smirk that would’ve been bloodthirsty if he had been a few years older.  “What makes you think I can’t maintain it anyway?”

 

                Tsuna bit his lip to hide a smile as he spotted several students shuddering with fear at the look on Hibari’s face.  “Fair enough.”

 

                The new school term came with Tsuna happier than he’d probably ever been before.  He’d spent the rest of summer vacation hanging out – Hibari still refused to call it that; Tsuna just shook his head and ignored him – with Hibari, sometimes for lunch, sometimes for summer homework at the library, sometimes for Hibari’s patrols (Tsuna had learned to stop wincing every time Hibari caught someone so much as littering and bit them to death), and sometimes for nothing at all (Hibari really liked his naps and Tsuna would usually bring along a book for that as they whiled away a lazy afternoon under a tree).

 

                Hibari had also taken to making his rounds more frequently around Tsuna’s neighbourhood.  Personally, Tsuna thought that the prefect had taken an unhealthy obsession with scaring Nari out of his wits.  When Tsuna had asked him why, the prefect had shot him a thoroughly unimpressed look.

 

                “The pathetic herbivore deserves to be bitten to death,” Was all Hibari had said, and since Tsuna had secretly felt a twinge of vindictive satisfaction at seeing Nari and his friends punished for bullying other kids, his efforts at getting Hibari to stop had been half-hearted at best.  He was Nari’s brother though so he did make sure the prefect didn't go too far.

 

                More than once however, Tsuna had wondered why the prefect _wanted_ to be his friend in the first place.  _Nobody_ wanted to be his friend – he was the weird, stupid kid who did everything wrong.  Or the weird, cheating kid when he did something right.

 

                He never asked though, and Hibari never said anything about it.  Despite his obvious loner tendencies, the prefect could tolerate him, liked him even or Hibari wouldn't trouble himself, and that was enough for Tsuna.

 

                “Sawada Tsunayoshi,” Hibari interrupted his thoughts impatiently.  “Stop daydreaming.  I’ll bite you to death for tardiness, even if it’s you.”

 

                Tsuna grinned wryly and headed down the hall with the prefect in tow.  An odd friendship at best.

 

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

 

**~8 Years Old~**

 

                “Make sure to come straight home today, okay Tsu-kun?  I want everything to be perfect for Na-kun’s birthday party and I’ll need your help.”

 

                Tsuna stared blankly at the balloons around him and the present already sitting at Nari’s spot at the table.

 

                “Mom?”  He mumbled falteringly.

 

                Nana hummed distractedly as she checked the oven.  “What is it, Tsu-kun?”

 

                “I-” Tsuna’s voice cracked and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry or throw the nearest breakable object at the far wall.  “It’s- Do you know what yesterday was?”

 

                “Yesterday?  Tsu-kun, we really must worry about today.  Oh I knew I should’ve bought more sugar!”

 

                “Dad called yesterday,” Tsuna persisted haltingly.  “He asked to talk to me.”

 

                Nana turned and smiled vaguely at him.  “Papa loves both of you very much – of course he’d want to talk to you.  And he’s promised to call again today – Na-kun will be happy to hear from Iemitsu on his birthday.”

 

                Tsuna’s shoulders hunched.  “It was my-”

 

                “Mom!”  Nari barrelled into the kitchen, an excited grin on his face.  “It’s my birthday today!”

 

                _It was my birthday yesterday,_ Tsuna thought dully as Nana gushed over his twin.  _We’re twins.  How could you forget?_

 

                He watched them for a few minutes, standing off to the side in a kitchen filled with the smell of a delicious breakfast and the happy voices of his mother and brother, and he wondered exactly when he had started looking at his family and only saw strangers in their place.

 

                Without another word, he shouldered his bag and shrugged on his coat, quietly toeing on his shoes before leaving the house without fanfare.

 

                _It’s okay,_ he told himself as he trudged to school, ruthlessly squashing the empty sensation in his heart.  _It’s just a birthday.  There are loads of people worse off than me out there who don’t even know when their birthday is.  Besides, Dad remembered.  Hearing from him is better than any present._

 

                His steps slowed as he rounded a corner and the school gates came into sight.  Truthfully, he didn't feel like going to school today, and Hibari would only whack him over the head a few times for skiving class just this once.

 

                Turning on his heel, Tsuna wandered away, no real destination in mind as his feet took him through the streets of Namimori.

 

                By the time he stopped walking, at least half an hour later, he had reached the grassy bank that overlooked Namimori’s main river.

 

                It had been raining last night and the grass was still damp so Tsuna, true to form, slipped on a wet patch and slid all the way down the slope, almost tumbling into the river itself if not for his hands coming out to grab at the greenery around him.

 

                He didn't get up afterwards, choosing instead to flop onto his back and stare up at the cloudy sky, still threatening to break into another downpour.

 

                Of course, quite soon, the dampness under him eventually soaked through his clothes, and he was probably cold but all he felt was a numb sort of exhaustion.

 

                He didn't move even when a light drizzle started up, and he was quite possibly half-asleep until something stirred at the edge of his senses, but before he could rouse himself, two hands, rough only because of the restrained panic underscoring their movements and still the size of a child’s for all the calluses they had, tugged fiercely at his coat and glanced sharply off one of his cheeks.

 

                Tsuna’s eyes flew open and he recoiled from the dark storm brewing in the grey gaze that was glaring back down at him.  “H- Hibari-senpai-!”

 

                “ _What_ do you think you’re doing?!”  Hibari bit out, eyes wilder than Tsuna had ever seen them.  “I thought you fell!”

 

                Tsuna gawked at him.  He’d never heard Hibari so much as speak with any sort of overemotional inflection, much less raise his voice.  “I- I was just-”

 

                “Not thinking!”  Hibari snapped, yanking him up into a sitting position.  “Clearly!  You are supposed to be at school, herbivore.  I will bite you to death, after-”

 

                The prefect all but hauled Tsuna onto his feet, swiping up his schoolbag at the same time before proceeding to drag him up the riverbank.

 

                “-after you explain to me how a genius can be so stupid,” Hibari finished scathingly, and Tsuna didn't dare argue.

 

                Apparently, explaining consisted of being led halfway across Namimori to a large traditional Japanese house in a remote area that Tsuna soon realized was Hibari’s home and dumped into the first bathroom inside, with the prefect ordering him to take a bath.  The older boy had then left before reappearing with a stack of clean clothes in hand.

 

                “I will be in the living room,” Hibari said curtly, closing the door behind him before Tsuna could muster any form of protest.

 

                Fifteen minutes and a good soak later, Tsuna shuffled out of the bathroom, now sporting a slightly too-big dark blue yukata as he padded towards the sitting room he had passed earlier.

 

                Hibari was already seated at the low table on a cushion, also donned in a navy yukata.  Feeling uncharacteristically meek, Tsuna wavered in the doorway until a pointed frown from Hibari sent him scurrying to the unoccupied seat across from the prefect.

 

                The house was eerily silent.  Perhaps Hibari’s parents were at work?  Come to think of it, he couldn't really imagine what the prefect’s mother and father would do for a living.  Police work, maybe?

 

                “Well?”  Hibari prompted after the prefect had poured him a cup of tea.  It was always tea with Hibari.

 

                Tsuna was tempted to quip ‘well what?’ but Hibari would probably slaughter him for that.  The prefect loathed people beating around the bush.

 

                He opened his mouth to explain, to tell the older boy that he just hadn't felt like going to school today because he wanted a day off since it was sort of his birthday and Nari would be unbearable at school with all his taunts and mockery and- and-

 

                None of that made it past his first breath.

 

                “Mom forgot my birthday,” He blurted out instead.  He stared unseeingly at his tea.

 

                “...What about the pathetic herbivore?”  Hibari enquired after a long, pregnant pause.

 

                Tsuna shrugged and didn't answer.

 

                “You are _twins_ ,” Hibari said, sounding completely disgusted.

 

The empty feeling from before began to recede.

 

                “I was born a minute before midnight,” Tsuna muttered.  “Nari was born six minutes after.  So I’m- My birthday was technically yesterday but it was easier to just put us on the same day.  My birth certificate even says October fourteenth.  I guess she remembered that our birthdays are on different days but forgot yesterday-”

 

                “That has nothing to do with anything,” Hibari scoffed.  “At the very least, she should realize what ‘twins’ entail.”

 

 _You’re very talkative today_ , Tsuna wanted to say, but he had made that mistake once already.  Hibari shut down at things like that.

 

                “I just wanted to be alone,” Tsuna said instead.  “I didn't mean to... worry you.”

 

                “Hn,” Hibari closed his eyes and sipped at his tea.  He didn't push any further even though there was still a faint shadow of displeasure in his expression.

 

Seconds ticked by but Tsuna was warm and comfortable and in the company of someone who was quite frankly turning out to be his favourite person in the world.  He had no complaints.

 

“Your father?”  Hibari asked after a while.

 

Tsuna managed a wan smile.  “He called yesterday, in the evening.  He works overseas, you know; construction business, so he apologized for not being able to come home, but he called at least.”

 

Hibari arched an eyebrow.  “Construction?”

 

Tsuna hesitated.  Even though they had only really known each other for about four months, Hibari Kyouya, who was straightforward and had little tolerance for rule-breakers and could be more violent than yakuza on a good day, was still the only person Tsuna could honestly say he trusted.

 

It was a rather depressing fact.

 

So before he could talk himself out of it, he rushed out, “I don’t think he is.  In the construction business I mean.  I-”

 

He stopped, shifting his weight uncertainly before taking the plunge.  He trusted Hibari, more than his mother who couldn't be bothered to remember him, more than his brother who was becoming increasingly cruel by the day, and even more than his father who loved him but broke promises like they meant nothing.

 

So, taking a deep breath, Tsuna extended his hands across the table and summoned up the radiant fire that always came so easily to him now.  Amber light flooded his palms, swirling with hypnotizing intensity before Tsuna calmed it into a more controlled ball of flame that hovered between them.

 

He glanced up.  Reflecting off the fire, Hibari’s eyes gleamed metallic silver, but Tsuna was more occupied by the utter lack of shock he found.  There was fascination, yes, but no surprise.

 

“You knew!”  He accused, dousing the flame in an instant.

 

Hibari met his gaze calmly.  “Yes.”

 

Tsuna wracked his mind.  “That day on the roof... That first time you joined me... You saw!”

 

Hibari inclined his head, still watching him with steady eyes.

 

Tsuna reeled a little, feeling unbalanced and on edge and overwhelmingly hurt.  “So- So you only stuck around because-”

 

The dull thunk of Hibari’s teacup against the wood of the table made Tsuna flinch.

 

“I would think,” Hibari began loftily.  “That you would know me better than that by now.”

 

Tsuna shrunk in on himself, the bitter turmoil of anguish and impulsive panicked betrayal retreating enough so that he could think clearly again.

 

He flushed red.  Hibari _wasn’t_ like that, of course.  The prefect had no patience for people he deemed not worth his time, and if he had only wanted to see Tsuna’s flames, he would’ve simply confronted Tsuna about it outright.

 

“Sorry,” Tsuna murmured, an echo of his apology from the summer.  “I- It’s the first time I’ve shown it to anyone.”

 

Hibari didn't look particularly surprised to learn that either, though with a mother and a brother like Nana and Nari, Tsuna supposed one would have to be downright moronic to assume the opposite.

 

“...Is it actual fire?”  Hibari pursued, and Tsuna couldn't help smiling at the note of genuine curiosity in the older boy’s voice.

 

“I don’t know,” Tsuna opened his hands and willed the flames into existence again.  “It burns just like fire but if I don’t want it to...”

 

He trailed off and turned his hand upside-down, letting the orange flame brush the table.  Nothing so much as singed.

 

Hibari looked thoughtful now.  “How big can you make it?”

 

Tsuna blinked.  “I don’t know.  I filled half my room with it once but I was just playing around.”

 

The prefect hummed in acknowledgement and poured him another cup of tea when Tsuna drained the last of it.

 

“Do you think I can do it?”  Hibari enquired next, though he looked as if he would attempt it no matter what Tsuna said.

 

Tsuna stilled.  Could Hibari-?  Tsuna knew for a fact that he wasn't the only one who could produce flames, especially since his dad and Timoteo had known what they were, which meant that either Iemitsu and his boss could both do it too or they at least knew other people who could.

 

“You could try!” Tsuna said enthusiastically.  “It’d be great if you could!  Then it’d be our secret and I can tell Nari to stuff it even if I won’t tell him about this-”

 

“The pathetic herbivore can do it?”  Hibari looked mortally offended.

 

Tsuna sweatdropped.  “Er, yes.  But Dad told him not to tell anyone or use it because it would harm him since he’s still too young.  I think he said something about sealing it away for the time being.”

 

Hibari stared at him, which led to Tsuna explaining everything that had happened back when he and Nari had been six and their father had come home for a visit with his boss.

 

“Suspicious,” Hibari summarized succinctly when he finished.

 

“That’s what I thought,” Tsuna agreed.  “Plain old construction workers wouldn't know about self-producing fire.  I tried looking up my dad’s company to see if there were any inconsistencies but everything looked alright.  I even hacked into their database but all I found were schedules and work sites.”

 

Hibari’s expression took on a sardonic cast.  “Hacking?”

 

Tsuna stared back unrepentantly.  “I'm good at it.”

 

“I have no doubt,” Hibari conceded before tilting his head in a considering manner.  “What is the name of the company?”

 

Tsuna frowned in thought.  “It was a foreign name – Italian.  Vongola Constructions.  Don’t know why though.  What kind of construction business names themselves after clam- Senpai?  Are you okay?”

 

Hibari had frozen with his teacup halfway to his mouth.  Deliberately, he lowered it back onto the table.  “‘Vongola’?”

 

Tsuna nodded slowly.  “Yeah.  Does that mean something to you?”

 

Hibari was silent for a long minute, looking conflicted about something.  The prefect glanced around the room, gaze lingering on a few portraits on the wall.  Tsuna followed his line of sight and noticed for the first time that all the pictures were black-and-white paintings or photographs of Japanese warlords, or at least people dressed like them.

 

“My family,” Hibari started abruptly.  “Both my parents are descended from prominent families with histories that extend a long way back.  Those,” He nodded at the portraits.  “Are my ancestors.”

 

Tsuna’s eyes widened.  “Seriously?  They were all military commanders?”

 

Hibari waved a dismissive hand.  “Warlords, police, assassins, spies – we have them all.  There might’ve even been one or two ninjas, though no records of them were ever kept for obvious reasons.”

 

“So...” Tsuna frowned, confused.

 

Hibari tapped an idle finger against his teacup.  “Thus, my family’s knowledge of... shadier organizations is quite thorough, and still expanding to this day.”

 

Hibari frowned somewhat distractedly.  “For me, Vongola means only one thing – the Vongola Family is the strongest mafia syndicate in all of Europe, and one of the strongest in the world.”

 

Tsuna stared.  He opened his mouth, found that he had nothing to say, and closed it again.

 

_Mafia?  His father was in the mafia?_

 

With effort, he pushed his shock aside and _thought_.

 

In a way, it made perfect sense.  His father’s long absences, his work overseas, his avoidance when Nari or Nana brought up his job, his knowledge of the flames even.  The flames could be used to attack – it fitted the mafia world just fine.

 

Strangely serene as things started to fall into place, Tsuna focused on Hibari again.  “The Vongola Family’s Boss – who is he?”

 

Hibari looked contemplative.  “They are currently led by the Ninth Generation Boss.  I do not know his name, though I hear he is getting on in age.  He should be looking to name a successor soon.  I believe he has four sons to choose from.”

 

Hibari paused, a scowl creeping onto his features.  “I do not know many details, only an overview of various organizations.  I am the youngest in my family.  The closest one to my age is a distant cousin a year older.”

 

Tsuna thought the prefect looked rather grumpy about this fact and wisely chose not to bring it up any further.

 

“I might’ve met him,” He said instead.  “The Ninth, I mean.  He came to our house.  My dad introduced him as Timoteo and said he was his boss.”

 

“Your father is a careless man,” Hibari remarked brusquely.  “He did not think you would eventually put this together?”

 

“I wouldn't have if you hadn't known about the Vongola,” Tsuna pointed out.

 

Hibari raised an eyebrow again.  “It is impossible for the fake company they have to not connect in some way back to the real Vongola.  You would’ve found it eventually.”

 

Tsuna smiled a little, a thrum of pride running through him.  Hibari and compliments went hand-in-hand about as well as fire and water.  For him to even imply one was rare.

 

“Didn't exactly expect mafia though,” Tsuna commented ruefully.  He glanced absently around the room.  “Were any of your ancestors Mafioso?”

 

Hibari nodded tersely.  “A few.  My great-great-great-grandfather was rumoured to have worked quite closely with a mafia boss, though he also headed an intelligence agency of a country at the same time.”

“A foot on either side of the law,” Tsuna idly swirled his tea.  “How does that work?”

 

Hibari shrugged.  “Our family does whatever we want.  My father works in America with the FBI.  My mother does contract work as a part-time assassin.”

 

His lip curled and a flash of contempt flickered through his eyes.  “My granduncle works for the Chinese Triads.”

 

Tsuna squinted at the prefect, taking these new pieces of information in stride.  His own father was a Mafioso – that was about as shocking as things could get.  “You’re okay with your mother being an assassin but you’re not okay with your granduncle working for the Triads?”

 

“I do not agree with the Triads’ ideals,” Hibari said flatly.  “And my granduncle is...”

 

He trailed off and then shook his head.  “You'll probably see one day.”

 

Tsuna’s curiosity was piqued but he could see that Hibari didn't want to talk about it anymore so he resisted.

 

“Teach me,” Hibari commanded instead, moving his teacup aside.  “In exchange, I will teach you how to fight.  It is high time you learned.”

 

Tsuna almost flailed as waved his hands in front of him.  “Wait, Senpai!  I don’t want to learn how to fight!”

 

Hibari narrowed his eyes.  “You wish to remain a weak herbivore for the rest of your life?”

 

Tsuna puffed out his cheeks indignantly.  “Just because I can’t fight doesn't make me a weak herbivore!  There are plenty of people in the world who don’t know how to fight – does that make them all weak herbivores?”

 

Hibari gave him a look that questioned his intellect.  “Of course.  Most of the people who _can_ fight are weak herbivores too.”

 

Tsuna sighed.  “Well, I’m not going to need to know how to fight, am I?”

 

Hibari’s expression darkened for a fleeting moment.  “You never know.  Especially with your father being part of the mafia.”

 

Tsuna pulled up short.  He hadn't thought of that.

 

“And the pathetic herbivore is getting more violent by the day,” Hibari borderline-sneered.

 

“You can’t talk, Senpai,” Tsuna deadpanned.

 

“I bite people to death for disturbing the peace in Namimori,” Hibari responded shortly.  “The pathetic herbivore _does_ most of the disturbing.”

 

Well, when Hibari put it that way...

 

Tsuna recalled all the times some five- or six- or seven-year-old at school would steer clear of his brother, avoiding Nari even if it meant being late to class and keeping a tight grip on their parents’ hands if they were there.  Tsuna had tried to talk to Nari about it at home but his twin had only snorted derisively and ignored everything he had said.

 

And as much as he hated to admit it, some of the bruises Nari and his friends managed to give him when Hibari wasn't around and Tsuna hadn't been able to run away no longer just stung or ached.  They actually hurt, especially when he lied down or bumped against something.

 

“Alright,” He agreed hesitantly.  “But I don’t even know if I can help much with the flame thing.  How about I tutor you in English as well?”

 

A calculating glint surfaced on in Hibari’s eyes.  “...You hacked my school files.”

 

Tsuna rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.  “I just skimmed them.  They were listed with everyone else’s.  You’re doing fine in English but you could do better.”

 

Hibari huffed.  “Who needs English?  Japanese is a perfectly respectable language.  It should be the international one.”

 

Tsuna snickered.  “The world begs to differ.  So?”

 

Hibari cocked his head in consideration.  “Very well.  How many languages do you know?”

 

Tsuna blinked.  “Three fluently – Japanese, English, and Italian.  I started Mandarin and Cantonese over the summer so I know the basics of those.  I'm planning to start French and maybe Spanish next year.”

 

Hibari shot him an incredulous look.  “ _Why_?”

 

Tsuna pouted.  “I like languages.  They come easily to me.”

 

“I despise languages,” Hibari muttered but looked resigned now.  “I know Mandarin quite well.  My father is Chinese.  I have books you may borrow.”

 

Tsuna brightened.  “Really?  Thanks!  Your parents won’t mind?”

 

Hibari grunted.  “My parents are not here.  They come and go as they please.  I am the sole keeper of this house.”

 

Tsuna was taken aback.  He quickly looked around again.  “You live here all by yourself?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Tsuna frowned, worry rearing its head inside him.  “This is a huge house.  Don’t you get lonely, Senpai?”

 

Hibari gave him a measured look.  “You live in a two-story house with a mother and a brother, filled with noise and chatter and who knows what else.  Don’t _you_ get lonely?”

 

Tsuna had nothing to say to that.  His gaze dropped to the table in front of him.

 

“I am largely occupied with Namimori,” Hibari said with finality.  “You worry too much, Tsunayoshi.”

 

Tsuna’s head jerked up.  That was literally the first time Hibari had ever called him by his first name instead of his full name or just herbivore.  The prefect was already getting up, placing both empty teacups and the teapot back onto the tray before heading for the door.

 

Tsuna quickly climbed to his feet as well, almost tripping over the hem of his yukata in the process.  He scowled when Hibari shot him an amused look.

 

Ten minutes later, they were settled comfortably in Hibari’s bedroom as Tsuna attempted to explain as best he could what he had felt when he had been in danger of falling out of a tree and had first activated his flames.

 

“I am never in danger,” Hibari told him point-blank, so candidly that it didn't even come across as arrogant.

 

Tsuna rolled his eyes.  “Okay, okay, Almighty One.  Just... meditate, maybe?  After that first time, it took a lot of concentration to produce it again but when I did, I felt... balanced.  And I think... you have to want it, want to bring it out, because for me, I feel like it’s already inside me, except it was waiting for me to summon it.  Like it was dormant before. Meditation sounds like something that might work.”

 

Hibari nodded thoughtfully, and then glanced at the clock on the wall.  “I will start on it tonight.  For now, I have patrol.  School is about to end.”

 

Tsuna started, and then leapt to his feet.  “Oh no, Mom told me to go straight home after school!  I have to help her with Nari’s party.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

Tsuna glanced back at Hibari, startled by the unexpectedly livid hiss of sound in that one syllable.  “Senpai?”

 

“It is your birthday as well,” Hibari said testily.  “She has no right-”

 

“I don’t want to make trouble for her, Hibari-senpai,” Tsuna said, suddenly weary.  “She has both of us to raise.  I'm not going to make a fuss over something so small.”

 

Hibari’s mouth thinned with irritation but he said nothing more.  Instead, the prefect walked over to the schoolbag on his desk, pulling something out and tossing it to Tsuna.

 

Tsuna fumbled a bit upon catching it, clasping the item between his hands before it could fall to the ground.  “What-?”

 

“I was going to give it to you at lunch,” Hibari wasn't looking at him, busying himself with closing his bag again.  If Tsuna didn't know better, he’d have thought Hibari was embarrassed.

 

Wrapped neatly in dark purple paper, the gift was in the shape of a box so there was no telling what was inside.  There was no card, but cards weren’t Hibari’s style anyway.

 

Tsuna started a bit when a drop of liquid splashed onto the present, staining the wrapping paper.  He hastily scrubbed a sleeve over his eyes.  What was he doing?  He hadn't cried in years.

 

“Can I- Can I open it now?”  Tsuna asked timidly.

 

Hibari shrugged, still staring avidly at his bag.  “It is yours to do with as you please.”

 

Tsuna’s smile felt wobbly on his face as he carefully peeled back the taped edges and unwrapped the gift with gentle hands.

 

                The box inside was plain white, but inside that was a light brown plaid-patterned scarf, thin checkered lines coloured white and red.  Looking closer at the scarf, just above one fringed end, Tsuna caught sight of the tiny two-lettered monogram sewn in elegant white.

 

                S. T.  His English initials.

 

                Oh crap.  He felt like crying.

 

                “It’s made of cashmere,” Hibari interjected at last when Tsuna continued staring at the length of fabric.  “You don’t wear one to school so I thought...”

 

                This time, Tsuna knew Hibari was embarrassed.  The prefect was glaring off to the side as if the wall had done him a personal offence. 

 

                “Thank you,” Tsuna said hoarsely.  He cleared his throat, fingers tightening in the soft material.  “You didn't have to.  I- What you did today was already enough, you know.  Coming to find me and all.  This is- I love it.”

 

                “Hn,” Hibari finally looked at him, something in his features loosening as smugness took its place.  “Of course; I chose it.”

 

                Tsuna released a watery laugh.  “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Hibari-senpai.  Thank you very much.”

 

                “Kyouya.”

 

                Tsuna blinked.  “Eh?”

 

                But Hibari was already turning away, pulling out his school uniform and tossing Tsuna an extra set.  “Change, Tsunayoshi.  I will have your clothes washed and dried by tomorrow.”

 

                Still wondering if he was hearing things, Tsuna meandered back to the bathroom in a near daze, though not before temporarily placing his new scarf back in the box.  He’d start wearing it as soon as possible.

 

                They left the house together, only parting ways at the intersection where Tsuna would have to turn right to get home.

 

                “Thanks again, and see you tomorrow,” Tsuna waved, and then added somewhat shyly, “Kyouya-senpai.”

 

                Kyouya didn't bat an eye, only nodding in return, and Tsuna openly beamed at the older boy from over his scarf before bouncing home.

 

                Even when he was intercepted by Nari, who taunted him with mocking laughter and an “Aw, did Mom forget your birthday?  You’re so insignificant that no one even cares when you were born.”, Tsuna couldn't wipe the glowing smile off his face.  He brushed off the rough shove Nari delivered to his shoulder and locked himself in his room, carefully hanging up his scarf before flopping back onto his bed.

 

                For a day that had started out so poorly, it had miraculously turned out to be one of the best days of his life.

 

**{2}**

 

                Hibari Kyouya was a loner at heart, and no one knew that better than he did.  His entire family was like that, it was in their genes – mother, father, aunts, uncles, and cousins alike, all doing what they pleased when they pleased.  He had been taught how to fight and fend for himself the moment he could comprehend his surroundings, and while he loved his mother and father and he knew they loved him, it was a distant sort of love, one that was thought of with vague affection every now and then.

 

                To Kyouya, this was perfectly normal.  He didn’t _like_ spending large amounts of time surrounded by people anyway, and so long as he had a general idea of his closest family members’ whereabouts, what they were doing or when he would see them again didn't really concern him.  All Hibaris – and extended relations – could take care of themselves.

 

                So it came as something of a shock when a weak little herbivore, seven years old and still so short with ridiculously fluffy brown hair and abysmal grades, had caught his attention.

 

                Not at first, of course.  Kyouya made a point of memorizing every student in Namimori Elementary, from the youngest to the oldest along with all the faculty members.  It was his duty while he was here – Namimori Town was Hibari territory after all, their ancestral home being one of the first structures created to form this city.

 

                So when Kyouya had come upon a group of herbivores crowding, he had mentally taken names left and right before sending them packing.

 

                Except the weak little herbivore, the one with fluffy brown hair and abysmal grades.  That one hadn't even bothered turning around as he continued trying to reach the book stuck between two branches of a tree.  It hadn't taken a genius to realize how that book had ended up there.

 

                _Sawada Tsunayoshi_ , Kyouya’s mind had drawn up easily.  _Seven years old, Class 2-B, twin brother of Sawada Ienari – who was, incidentally, one of the crowding herbivores – and an average student at best.  Often bullied, no friends, boring._

 

                Except boring people didn't _not_ flee from Kyouya’s presence when he ordered it.  (They fled even without him ordering it, come to think.)

 

                Feeling uncharacteristically generous in the face of such defiance, Kyouya had thrown one of his tonfas at the book, knocking it loose.  He hadn't expected the younger boy to catch both the book and the weapon, even if he did struggle against the weight of the latter.

 

                And then the herbivore had gone and thanked him – and when was the last time someone had thanked him for anything? – coincidentally giving Kyouya a good look at the book.

 

                Students with abysmal grades did not read _The Art of War_ in a foreign language.

 

                Kyouya hated learning new languages – Japanese was the only one he could manage without difficulty; even Mandarin had been a headache and a half – but he knew enough English to recognize the title.

 

                He had left immediately afterwards, but after finishing his patrols, he had pulled up Sawada Tsunayoshi’s school file, scrolling past the grades and percentages that apparently meant nothing and finally stopping at the note that 2-B’s teacher had added at the bottom about the boy needing remedial classes.

 

                Kyouya had caught up with the contradicting student several days later after school, and he had ended up not biting the herbivore to death in favour of confronting him about his hidden aptitude.

 

                He had found out that the herbivore was an awful liar but hadn't pushed for a real answer and left the issue at that.  The boy was worth keeping an eye on.

 

                The next time they had met had been on the very roof, three days into summer classes.  Kyouya certainly hadn't needed to attend, but as long as school was in session, he had had a job to do.

 

                He preferred spending his time on rooftops so he had made his way there per usual to fit in an afternoon nap, only to catch Sawada Tsunayoshi _playing with fire_.  Literally.

 

                Kyouya had almost attacked the boy right then and there – pyromaniacs were _definitely_ against school rules – but he had held back when he realized that the herbivore had neither lighter nor matches and that the flames were simply dancing over the boy’s hands.

 

                He had watched for a long few minutes, reluctantly mesmerized by the show, but he had still wanted his nap and he hadn't been curious enough to demand answers right then and there, so he had intentionally made his footsteps audible, inwardly scoffing when the herbivore hastily extinguished the flames, and had headed towards the other bench on the roof without acknowledging the younger student.

 

                That had been the first of a series of encounters that had eventually led to an utterly unanticipated friendship with Sawada Tsunayoshi.

 

                The most bizarre thing of all was the fact that Kyouya didn't mind at all.

 

                Tsunayoshi was uncannily clever for his age, and the first time Kyouya had seen one of the younger boy’s math tests, he had almost laughed out loud at the series of primary numbers that the brunet had somehow worked in.

 

                Their meetings had ultimately led to lunch outside of school once remedial classes had ended.

 

                Kyouya had received an exceedingly unpleasant surprise that day.

 

After all, what kind of brother bullied his sibling to the pathetic herbivore’s degree?

 

What kind of mother called her own son useless, and in front of other people to boot, all the while keeping a smile on her face?

 

The only reason Kyouya hadn’t hit _her_ had been because she was a defenceless woman, not to mention Tsunayoshi’s mother.

 

After that, Kyouya had gone after Nari with a vengeance, not allowing the annoyance to put a toe out of line when he was out and about in Namimori.

 

But there was only so much Kyouya could do, and the scatter of bruises that had sometimes littered Tsunayoshi’s arms or legs whenever the boy met up with him had made Kyouya inwardly seethe.

 

Those injuries, however superficial, meant that Kyouya had _failed_.

 

The most baffling thing of all was the fact that Tsunayoshi always, with dogged obstinacy, stopped Kyouya from doing too much damage to Nari and his friends.

 

“I’m his older brother,” The idiot herbivore had rationalized (in vain because Kyouya just couldn't understand).  “It’s my duty to protect him.”

 

In the end, Kyouya had come to the conclusion that Sawada Tsunayoshi was simply too nice.

 

However, bullying and family situations aside, Kyouya certainly enjoyed having lunch with the younger boy or discussing books or smirking at Tsunayoshi’s expense when the brunet became too immersed in whatever he was doing and crashed into a pole or a tree in his path (most of the time, Kyouya would pull him out of the way but it was extremely entertaining to watch the boy shriek at the collision before scowling rather ineffectively at Kyouya for not warning him as he picked himself off the ground).

 

And before Kyouya had fully grasped the fact that yes, he now had a _friend_ , the two of them had already fallen into a comfortable routine, so much that Kyouya now saw Tsunayoshi more often than the silence of his own house.  He didn't mind living alone of course, but now that he had learned to live with the younger student in his life, he was astonishingly reluctant to return to that silence.

 

And then October fourteenth had rolled around, and Kyouya had even taken the time to pick out a present, something he had never even done for his _parents_ and vice-versa – birthdays were acknowledged and considered special (his parents even phoned home on his birthday) but no additional celebration was expected – only for Tsunayoshi to not even show up.

 

At first, Kyouya had thought that maybe he had missed the younger boy – though that hadn't happened since the first week of September – but when lunch had rolled around and Kyouya had checked with Tsunayoshi’s teacher _and_ threatened it out of the pathetic herbivore, he had realized that Tsunayoshi had never even made it to school.

 

Thinking back, it hadn't even occurred to Kyouya to _not_ storm out of the school at once and track down his wayward friend.

 

He would never admit it even under pain of death but his heart had very nearly stopped when he had crossed the bridge overseeing Namimori River and had spotted a painstakingly familiar figure lying limply at the edge of the river.

 

Reason had flown out the window within the span of a heartbeat and Kyouya had raced down the riverbank with nowhere near his typical amount of grace.  Tsunayoshi was clumsy on a good day and couldn't throw a punch to save his life – how the boy had survived up until now was a mystery Kyouya would never solve.

 

He had been torn between wanting to dump the stupid herbivore into the river for needlessly making him leave the school and dragging the boy back to his house for a bath and a change of clothes, only picking the latter because Tsunayoshi had looked wholly miserable sitting there soaked to the bone with his hair plastered to his skin.  The brunet had seemed even smaller than usual.

 

And when he had found out just why Tsunayoshi had wandered off in such bad weather, revulsion couldn't even begin to describe what he felt towards the rest of the Sawada family.

 

There were three things Kyouya valued when it came to life in general, something his mother had drilled into him by the time he had turned five – strength obviously, a certain honour when applying that strength, and loyalty.

 

The Hibari family was widespread and scattered across the globe but if – and this was a very big if – any one of them ran into serious trouble that they couldn't get themselves out of, the rest of the family would not hesitate to go to their aid, even if dropping everything meant – as one of his aunts had put it – screwing someone else over.  Honour to the family, and to know when too far was _too far_ , something he was still struggling with right now.

 

(Personally, Kyouya didn't think he had gone far enough when punishing the pathetic herbivore but Tsunayoshi always held him back).

 

Loyalty was also important – loyalty to each Hibari’s own ideals and the resolve to stick to them, even if they didn't necessarily line up with another family member’s.  Kyouya’s mother and father were a fine example – his father’s _job_ was to catch people like his mother but they had even gotten married.

 

So it was perfectly understandable that Kyouya simply could not comprehend the Sawada family’s dynamics.  Oh, he understood that there were less-than-stellar families out there, abusive parents and so on, but he couldn't understand parents who just didn't seem to care one way or another about their children.

 

And how was it possible to remember one twin’s birthday but not the other?  That didn't make any sense to Kyouya no matter how he looked at it.

 

Now though, as he paused to watch Tsunayoshi almost skipping home (how the boy could be so happy over a mere scarf that it drowned out the sorrow from before, Kyouya would never know), Kyouya deliberated spitefully over how miserable he could make the pathetic herbivore on his birthday.

 

Hibaris weren’t known for mercy after all.

**{2}**

 

                “Don’t you think that’s enough, Senpai?”

 

                Kyouya glanced to the side, his bloodlust faltering when he met worried brown eyes.  His gaze slid back to the yakuza piled in front of him, bloodied and broken.  “They were desecrating Namimori property.  They must be bitten to death.”

 

                “And they have been,” The younger boy approached without a hint of fear.  It made a part of Kyouya want to back away.  “But if you go any further, they’ll be permanently damaged, you know.”

 

                Kyouya’s eyes gleamed as he looked back at the herbivores on the ground.  His mother had always told him to finish a job he’d started, and these yakuza had been kicking over merchandise in one of the stores run by an old lady.

 

                One of the herbivores let out an agonized groan and Kyouya immediately zeroed in on him.  The herbivore shrank back, or tried to anyway, coughing up blood as he did so.

 

                Kyouya smirked, taking a step forward and raising his tonfas again.  Permanent damage sounded fine – it would ensure that none of them ever disturbed the peace in Namimori again.

 

                He took another step forward and then blinked when a stern gaze filled his sight.  He took an involuntary step back.

 

                “Out of the way, herbivore,” Kyouya ordered, swallowing down the urge to simply knock the brunet out of the way with force.  He’d warned Tsunayoshi before – the boy shouldn't get in his way when his mind was this focused on _prey_ , shouldn't interfere, and if the idiot herbivore didn't move soon he was going to-

 

                “Kyouya-senpai,” The unyielding voice cut through the haze of thoughts in his mind like a knife through melted butter.  Warm hands wrapped around his wrists in a loose but firm grip.  “You can stop now.  This is enough.”

 

                Kyouya glared and tried to shake the idiot herbivore off but his feet didn't seem to want to move and his arms felt frozen in place.  He drew in a breath to snap at the brunet but forgot what he wanted to say when he found his murderous intent ebbing, slowly but surely.

 

                He frowned darkly and shook his head to clear it.  His gaze slid past Tsunayoshi to eyeball the yakuza on the ground.  Most were unconscious; the only two awake were staring back with a desperate sort of trepidation.

 

                Kyouya exhaled, leaving the last of the clinical cruelty that always felt like it had wrapped itself around his heart to drain away with the breath as he concentrated once more on the younger boy in front of him.

 

                No fear.  Just concern.

 

                Kyouya lowered his tonfas.

 

                Tsunayoshi smiled and released him.  “Thanks, Senpai.  Let me just call an ambulance, and then we can go back to your place and get that wrapped up.”

 

                Kyouya had barely felt the gash on his left arm but he said nothing as Tsunayoshi whipped out his cell phone and dialled 1-1-9.

 

                “Excuse me,”

 

                Kyouya watched with growing incredulity as the brunet crouched down in front of the two conscious yakuza.  What the hell was he doing?

 

                “Please don’t go around destroying property anymore,” Tsunayoshi said earnestly, and even the herbivores on the ground looked incredulous behind their grimaces of pain.  “It’s not nice to the shopkeepers, and next time, Kyouya-senpai probably won’t be as forgiving.”

 

                The second reason seemed to cause the yakuza to hastily agree more than the first.  Kyouya scoffed, shot the herbivores a vicious glare, and then hauled Tsunayoshi to his feet and led the way out of the back alley.

 

                “I hardly think they’ll even consider repenting,” Kyouya remarked coolly as they walked down the street.

 

                Tsunayoshi shrugged.  “They might.  I've asked them not to and they agreed.”

 

                “Because they're scared of me,” Kyouya sneered.  His hands tightened around his tonfas.

 

                “Probably,” Tsunayoshi agreed, and then looked up at him with eyes that glinted amber.  “But at least they’ll think twice now before doing anymore property damage, and you’ll have less of them to worry about.”

 

                “We let them go!”  Kyouya barked, irritated.  “That’s a weakness they’ll exploit right there.”

 

                “We showed mercy,” The brunet corrected, and the flame in his eyes _burned_.

 

Kyouya absently wondered if Tsunayoshi even knew just how powerful he seemed right then and there, an inner strength blazing from that gaze.

 

                It was almost blinding yet Kyouya couldn't find it in himself to look away.

 

                “And you know, it just might pay off one day.”  And Tsunayoshi smiled, and it was a smile Kyouya had never seen before.  It made the brunet seem... infinitely wiser for a split second, and so at peace with himself that it made him look as if he had everything in the universe figured out.

 

                Kyouya wasn't sure that he liked it all that much.  It made the brunet seem very far away all of a sudden, in a place that Kyouya would never be able to reach.

 

                He remembered what Tsunayoshi had told him about the flames – that it made him feel balanced – and he wondered if this was a part of that.  So far, Kyouya had only been able to conjure small bursts of purple fire, nothing as controlled or long-lasting or beautifully-crafted as the brunet’s flames.

 

                “You weren’t afraid,” He said abruptly, eyeing the blood on his weapons with distaste.  He had to force himself to look back at Tsunayoshi now.  “Back in the alley.”

 

                Today had been the first time Kyouya had teetered on the edge of that unstable lack of restraint since Tsunayoshi had joined him.  He had been careful not to fight too hard before, but he had had to today, both because there had been fourteen of them to bite to death and because he had gotten too immersed in the fight.

 

                He had expected Tsunayoshi to feel afraid.  That was generally the normal reaction.

 

                “Of course not,” Tsunayoshi said, and this time, there was no burnished orange eyes or distant smile, just the genius eight-year-old that Kyouya knew better than anyone, with a love of books and languages and a penchant for homework pranks of all things.  “Why would I be?  You’d never hurt me.”

 

                He had expected Tsunayoshi to feel afraid.  He had also forgotten to take into account the fact that that same boy had somehow befriended Kyouya in the space of half a summer.

 

                He felt the last of the tension in his shoulders slip away.  He almost wanted to say thank-you, but knowing Tsunayoshi, the boy wouldn't understand what for anyway, and Kyouya wasn't sure he could put it in words to explain.

 

                So he simply settled for walking next to Tsunayoshi, keeping a sharp eye out just in case any other yakuza jumped out at them and tried to hurt the younger boy as they made their way back home.

 

**{2}**

 

                “You have a kotatsu!” Tsuna said gleefully.

 

                Kyouya looked mildly peeved.  “We are in Japan.  Of course I have a kotatsu.”

 

                Tsuna just shook his head, toeing off his boots and almost falling flat on his face if not for Kyouya’s hand grabbing him by his jacket.  He stuck out his tongue at Kyouya’s exasperated sigh.  The prefect had started him on katas and laps around the older boy’s backyard but Tsuna was still prone to bouts of clumsiness.

 

                He patted the snow from his jacket before Kyouya closed the front door and hung it up on the nearby coat rack along with his scarf.

 

                “Towel?”  Kyouya was already rifling through a hall closet.

 

                “Thanks,” Tsuna’s hair was wet from melted snow.  It was a cold winter this year.

 

                Fifteen minutes later, Tsuna was snuggled contentedly under the comforter of the charcoal kotatsu, the heat chasing the last of the chill from his bones.  Kyouya sat on the right, a nabe pot in front of them with dishes of food and sauces spread out across the table.

 

                They had agreed not to exchange presents for Christmas because this year’s winter had literally forced most of the stores to close a week and a half early.  Instead, they had hurried out and bought enough food for hotpot before heading back to Kyouya’s house.

 

                Tsuna had already dropped a word to his mother that he’d like to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with Kyouya, and Nana had agreed readily, half-preoccupied with a full Christmas dinner spread.

 

                Tsuna had been almost relieved that the easy dismissal hadn't hurt as much as it might have even a few months ago.  Scooting past Nari who had taken up the living room with his friends and were shooting at something on the TV screen, Tsuna had left the house, grinning when he had found Kyouya already waiting by the front gate.

 

                “I like sukiyaki!”  Tsuna said animatedly.  Kyouya snorted but started adding vegetables, mushrooms, tofu, and sliced pork into the pot.  Tsuna grinned and grabbed the shirataki and soy sauce.

 

                Halfway through the meal, Tsuna remembered the upcoming New Year’s.  “Ne, Senpai, New Year’s is coming up.  Do you want to go to the local shrine together?  Or do you have patrol?”

 

                Kyouya paused, swallowing his mouthful before answering.  “There will be crowds.”

 

                Which meant he did.

 

                “But you may join me on my rounds,” Kyouya continued without preamble.

 

                Tsuna brightened.  “Sure!  And we can stop by the shrine along the way.”

 

                Kyouya nodded in agreement, but before either of them could say anything more, Tsuna’s phone trilled out a series of notes, breaking the comfortable atmosphere in the house.

 

                Tsuna made a face but quickly dug into his bag.  He froze when he saw the Caller ID.

 

                “Senpai,” Tsuna murmured, turning the phone haltingly towards the older boy.  “That’s the country code for Italy, isn’t it?”

 

                Kyouya’s features darkened but he nodded in the affirmative.  “Your father?”

 

                Tsuna knew Kyouya wasn't particularly impressed with Iemitsu either.  “Probably.”

 

                The last time he had talked to his father had been on his birthday.  He had forgotten that Iemitsu usually called either on Christmas or New Year’s, rarely both.  His dad must have called home and Nana must have told him that Tsuna had gone over to a friend’s house.

 

                Sighing, Tsuna answered the call.  “Hello?”

 

                _“Tsuna!  It’s Papa!  How’s my eldest son?”_

 

                “Fine, Dad,” Tsuna smiled a little.  It had been a while.  “How’s your Christmas going?”

 

                _“Oh, you wouldn't believe the amount of snow here!  But I managed to get a few hours off before I have to get back to work.  How ’bout you?  What’s this I hear about spending Christmas at a friend’s house?”_

 

                Tsuna glanced warily at Kyouya who was looking moodier by the minute.  “Yeah, I’m at Kyouya-senpai’s house.  Mom said I could.”

 

                _“Well, if your mother says so, but Christmas is a time for family, you know.”_

 

                Tsuna hadn't meant to say it, really he hadn’t.  It just... slipped out.

 

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

 

                He was distinctly aware of the stifling silence on the other end of the line, as well as the arched eyebrow Kyouya was directing at him.

 

                Tsuna mentally slapped himself.  Where the heck had that come from?  “I- I’m sorry.  I didn't mean that.  I-”

 

                _“No, you’re right, you’re absolutely right,”_ His dad interrupted heavily.  _“I should be there, I know.  But there’s- there’s some stuff Papa is doing right now for work and he can’t get away.”_

 

                Translation: someone’s probably about to be assassinated or there were alliances to make or top-secret missions to run.  Didn’t Mafioso celebrate Christmas?

 

                “I understand, Dad,” Tsuna said quietly.  “Don’t worry about it.  It means a lot that you called.”

 

                Another long moment of silence.  Kyouya looked two seconds away from snatching Tsuna’s phone and threatening Iemitsu over the line.

 

                “Well, Merry Christmas,” Tsuna said at last.  “And Happy New Year.  Don’t work too hard, okay?”

 

                There was a rustle, and Tsuna could swear he heard a hissed _“Say something back before he hangs up, moron!”_ before his dad spoke again.

 

                _“Merry Christmas, Tsuna,”_ His father sounded almost... desperate.  _“Papa promises to come home-”_

 

                Tsuna frowned when his dad stopped mid-sentence with a muttered _“Ow!  Lal!”_ and the same voice from before, female but holding a confusingly babyish tone, snapped, _“Watch your words!  You’re giving the kid more grief than he needs!”_

 

                Before Tsuna could decide whether or not to ask his father what was going on, Iemitsu’s voice came back again, guilty but firm.  _“Papa will try to come back soon, okay Tsuna?”_

 

                Tsuna blinked, and then smiled somewhat dryly in spite of the situation.  “Okay, Dad.  Goodnight.”

 

                _“’Night, Son.”_

 

                Tsuna exhaled deeply as he hung up, staring unseeingly at the phone for a long second before tossing it back into his bag.

 

                “Well,” Tsuna smiled cheerily at Kyouya, reaching for his chopsticks again.  “That went better than I thought it would.”

 

                “Hn,” Kyouya picked up his own bowl and a ladle.  “Does he know you’re already eight years old?  Why is he still talking to you like you’re two?”

 

                Tsuna laughed.  “I think that’s still normal for some eight-year-olds.  It’s me and you who are the exception, not the norm.  And it’s my dad we’re talking about.  The last time he saw me, I was still six.”

 

                “Six, and a genius,” Kyouya grumbled.  “My father taught me the weakest parts of the human body and how to break them when I was six.”

 

                Tsuna sweatdropped.  “...Like I said – exception, not the norm.”

 

                Kyouya just smirked, extracting another helpless laugh from Tsuna.

 

                “How’s the flame thing coming along?”  Tsuna asked next.  They’d been working on trying to draw something out for weeks now.  Two weeks after Tsuna had first brought it up, Kyouya had accosted him on his way to school, a rare gleam of exhilaration in his eyes as he told Tsuna about the flash of purple fire that had burst from his hands in the middle of a meditation session (consequently, it had also set his lamp on fire).

 

                Tsuna hadn't known what to make of that but he took it in stride.  Producing fire was weird enough – purple fire wasn't a very far stretch.

 

                “Well enough,” Kyouya extended a hand and, after a few seconds, a ball of fire glowed on the tip of one finger, pulsing erratically in the air.  It flickered out moments later.

 

                “I’ve been considering the possibility of combining my flames with my tonfas,” Kyouya said with a slightly evil-looking smile.

 

                Tsuna blanched.  “Kyouya-senpai, you’re going to end up killing someone.  Besides, didn't we agree to keep this a secret?  You’re always going after Nari; he’ll find out.”

 

                The prefect looked alarmingly disappointed.  “Well, I suppose I will refrain from revealing it in public.  Unless it is necessary.”

 

                Tsuna sighed.  It was the best he’d get out of Kyouya.

 

                The rest of the night was spent dragging blankets and pillows out into the sitting room around the kotatsu and reading books and watching the snow drift down from the night sky outside, blanketing everything in white.

 

                Tsuna looked up from the book he was reading when the clock chimed midnight.  He glanced to his right at Kyouya who was already asleep.

 

                “Merry Christmas, Kyouya-senpai,” Tsuna whispered, closing his book and wriggling further under the kotatsu.

 

It didn't take long for him to begin dozing off, lazily warm with the chilly weather securely locked outside.  Just before he fell asleep though, a drowsy voice reached his ears.

 

“Merry Christmas, Tsunayoshi.”

 

Tsuna smiled.

 

**{2}**

 

                Tsuna wasn't even halfway to school when he knew it was going to be _one of those days_.

 

                The reason for this came in the shape of a black car, men in colourful suits, and a chloroform gag that put him out like a light before he could blink.

 

                When he woke up again, head pounding and bleary-eyed, he found himself in a well-lit warehouse with fifteen men – yakuza, the working part of his brain told him – scattered throughout the room, talking in urgent whispers amongst themselves.

 

                “We don’t touch kids!”  The one wearing a casual white shirt and brown slacks hissed, and Tsuna realized that he was unbound and unhurt save for a headache, and placed on a rug by the wall.  Even his bag had been left beside him.

 

                Huh.  Their mistake.

 

                “You know Shin’s rules!”  The same yakuza continued, icy blue eyes narrowed under a shaggy white fringe of hair.  “ _What_ were you thinking kidnapping that child?”

 

                The man currently being chewed out squirmed guiltily in place.  If Tsuna hadn't just been knocked out and snatched off the streets, he’d be inclined to feel sympathetic.

 

                “We thought Aniki would make an exception,” The yakuza half-whined.  “This brat’s a friend of Hibari Kyouya’s!  We could use him to lure Hibari here!”

 

                The white-haired man threw up his hands.  “That’s even worse!  Why do you idiots go out of your way to piss off the Skylark?  Are you all masochists or something?  He can kick your collective asses six ways to Sunday and you know it!”

 

                The Skylark?  It was a deceptively harmless moniker for someone like Kyouya, and what if there was more than one Hibari in town?

 

                “I dunno why we can’t just get rid of the bastard,” Another yakuza muttered resentfully.  “You’d take him down in a heartbeat.”

 

                “I’ve told you before – the Hibaris have more right to this city than we do,” The white-haired man snapped.  “It’s an ancient clause – all the yakuza in and around Namimori once swore fealty to the Hibari family one way or another.  Be grateful that it’s so obscure that the Hibaris themselves don’t care what we do as long as we don’t go around destroying this city.  Besides, we arrange a hit on one of them and we get the _entire_ Hibari family down on our heads.  So spit it out – what did you morons do this time?  And don’t give me bullshit about how it was the Skylark’s fault – it _never_ _is_ , God help me.”

 

                Tsuna watched behind half-lidded eyes as the underlings all shuffled their feet before one brave soul grumbled out, “Tai and Kichi went out with a few others and... messed up some old bat’s store.  They just kicked a few things over, and then Hibari came flying in and-”

 

                “ _What._ ”  The white-haired man bit out through gritted teeth.  “Did the old lady ever do to them?”

 

                This time, nobody answered.

 

                The man heaved a sigh and covered his eyes with one hand for a moment before pinning them all with a glare.  “Alright, someone tell me Tai and Kichi aren’t dead.  And whoever else stupid enough to follow them.  We’ve already lost three eight months ago, even if they were just grunts.”

 

                “They’re at the hospital,” Another yakuza supplied helpfully, visibly relieved that the white-haired man – second-in-command? – was no longer raging at them.  “Fourteen of them altogether.  From what I got outta Kichi and Tai, that boy over there stopped Hibari from killing them and then called an ambulance.  Oh, he asked them to stop destroying property too.”

 

                There was a long silence.

 

                “Let me get this straight,” The white-haired man drawled, a dangerous glint entering his eyes.  “That boy over there saved fourteen of our guys from getting killed, called an _ambulance_ to take them to the hospital, didn't ask for anything in return except to stop doing something they shouldn't have been doing in the first place, and you _still_ saw fit to drug the poor kid and essentially kidnap him.  Is that about right?”

 

                In the hush that ensued, Tsuna could swear he heard the man’s molars grinding.

 

                “Get the hell outta here!”  The yakuza finally snarled.  “You ever touch this boy again and you’ll have me _and_ Shin to deal with.  And you can tell Tai and Kichi to stop hiding in the hospital and get their asses back here – I’ll be teaching those imbeciles a lesson they won’t forget.  Go!”

 

                They went, scuttling out of the warehouse as fast as their legs could carry them.

 

                As soon as the door closed behind the last one, the white-haired man pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again before turning in Tsuna’s direction.

 

Tsuna hurriedly closed his eyes.  He listened as the yakuza’s footsteps drew closer and tightened his grasp on the taser he had smuggled out of his bag and under his stomach.  Kyouya had given it to him recently as a precaution.  Tsuna had had no idea that he would actually need it.

 

The footsteps stopped a few feet in front of him.  “Yo, kid, you've my word I won’t hurt you, so don’t go trying to tase me, alright?”

 

Tsuna twitched, and then cautiously opened his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position, taser still in hand.  The yakuza had actually sat down on the floor a short distance away, legs crossed and hands resting loosely on his knees.  “...When’d you know I woke up?”

 

The man shrugged.  “When you went for your bag.  Try not to make it so obvious next time.”

 

Tsuna pondered this.  “How’d you know it was a taser?”

 

A wry smile this time, one that thawed the man’s eyes a bit.  “Well, it was either that or pepper spray, and you can’t effectively use the latter on adults just yet – you're too short, especially when you're up against adults who know how to fight and or take drugs.  Pepper spray wouldn’t work on addicts.  The Skylark would know that.”

 

Tsuna scowled but he lowered the taser, keeping it beside him all the same.  “So?  Are you going to return me?  I'm late for school.”

 

He checked his watch.  “Five minutes late.  I’d give it another five before Kyouya kicks down the door.”

 

The man cocked an eyebrow and then released a bark of laughter.  “Aren't you scared at all, kid?  I could've been lying.”

 

“You’re not,” Tsuna said with instinctive certainty.  “Besides, if you hurt me, Kyouya will kill you.”

 

The yakuza looked faintly amused.  “Do you think he can?”

 

“Yes,” Tsuna stared at the man.  “Probably not now, but he’ll manage it one day.  And he can probably make you very unhappy in the meantime.”

 

He titled his head, studying the blank blue eyes.  They had only gone from cold to not-so-cold in all this time.  “You're pretty unhappy right now.”

 

Something flickered like quicksilver across the man’s features.  “Damn right I am.  Lackeys are always a problem.  The morons who kidnapped you were lackeys too, come to that.”

 

Tsuna peered at him.  “Not about that.  About something else.  You’re-”

 

A loud crash cut him off and they both turned to stare at the figure standing at the now doorless doorway.

 

“Shiraishi.”  Kyouya’s voice was a near-homicidal growl as he stalked towards them.  The yakuza got to his feet, frame still at ease.  “I hope you've written your will.  You will be fully bitten to death.”

 

“Wait!  Wait!”  Tsuna scrambled up as well, quickly jumping in front of the white-haired man – Shiraishi – and spreading his arms out protectively.  “Senpai, he had nothing to do with this!  In fact, he stopped his men from harming me.  He’s been very nice.”

 

Kyouya stopped and stared at him.  “Tsunayoshi, have you gone insane?”

 

Tsuna huffed indignantly, lowering his arms now that Kyouya looked to be calming down.  “Of course not, but you're not supposed to go around hurting people who don’t deserve it.  Thank you for coming to get me though.”

 

Kyouya just glowered at him before his gaze slid to the man still standing behind Tsuna.  “They will be punished?”

 

“Yes,” Shiraishi said calmly, though when Tsuna twisted around to face him, the man was looking at him instead of Kyouya with a rather strange expression on his face.  “We owe you a debt... Tsunayoshi was it?  Should you ever need help, the Shuurai-gumi will come to your aid.”

 

And before Tsuna could even think about what to say to this turn of events, Shiraishi had pulled out a pen and a piece of paper and scribbled something down, handing it to Tsuna once he had finished.

 

A number and an address were written on it.

 

“Please burn it after you've memorized it, or put it in your phone,” The man reminded him, and then his eyes, blue and blank and still unhappy, searched his face for a moment.

 

“I am Shiraishi Seiki, Shuurai-gumi’s Second,” The yakuza spoke up again when Kyouya began bristling.  “If you ever need anything specific, call that number.  ...Perhaps we will meet again one day.”

 

A nod of his head and a casual wave saw Shiraishi’s abrupt exit as the yakuza disappeared out the door.

 

“...I still think I should’ve bitten him to death,” Kyouya complained, tucking away his tonfas.

 

Tsuna elbowed him, glancing down one last time at the number and address before activating his flames and turning the piece of paper to ash in a flash of orange.  “Don't say that.  He didn't even know.”

 

As they began to make their own way out, Tsuna thought back to the deadened eyes.

 

He shuddered.  He never wanted to go through whatever it was that had made Shiraishi look like that.

 

**{2}**

 

                Tsuna collapsed into gales of laughter as Kyouya once again botched another simple sentence in Italian.

 

                “I’m sorry,” He gasped, wiping tears from his eyes as Kyouya glowered sullenly at him.  “It’s just- you sound hilarious, Senpai!”

 

                Kyouya glowered even harder.  “I never wanted to learn Italian anyway.  We agreed on English.”

 

                “And the English is coming along,” Tsuna assured.  “But Italian’s something that’s completely unrelated to school.  It could be useful one day too.”

 

                “I have no interest whatsoever in going to Italy,” Kyouya griped.

 

                “Well, you never know,” Tsuna said optimistically.  “Best to be prepared.  I could teach you French after this.”

 

                This earned him a glare that spoke of being whacked over the head with a tonfa.  “Don’t even think about it.  I can get by in life with Japanese and English.  I’ll even learn Italian because you won’t stop nagging.  But anymore than that and I’ll bite you to death.”

 

                Tsuna grinned and slid the book back across the table.  “Whatever you say, Senpai.”

 

**{2}**

 

                Tsuna was halfway down the stairs when he sensed a presence behind him.  Instinctively, he sidestepped without thinking, eyebrows shooting up when Nari stumbled past him, arms outstretched before they grabbed the railing to stop his descent.

 

                “Tch,” Nari glared at him, straightening.  “What are you doing stopping on the stairs, Dame-Tsuna?”

 

                Tsuna eyed his brother guardedly.  “What are you doing trying to push me down the stairs, Nari?”

 

                Nari sneered, turning away.  “You won’t always have that rabid guard dog to hide behind, you know.  And then I’ll teach you a lesson for disrespecting me.”

 

                Tsuna said nothing, watching his twin continue down the stairs.  Honestly, this was getting out of hand.

 

                “I’m not eating breakfast today, Mom,” Nari announced, breezing through the kitchen.  “I’m meeting some friends.”

 

                “Oh, okay, Na-kun.  Have fun!”

 

                Tsuna entered the kitchen only after Nari had left.  “Good morning, Mom.”

 

                “Good morning, Tsu-kun,” Nana smiled, passing him some cutlery.  “Breakfast is almost ready.”

 

                Tsuna nodded, helping her set everything out.  “Mom?”

 

                “Hmm?”

 

                Tsuna wavered.  “You know, Mom, Nari is- He’s pretty popular at school.”

 

                Nana beamed.  “Yes he is, isn’t he?  He has so many friends.  I do wish you were more like him, Tsu-kun.”

 

                _No thanks,_ Tsuna mouthed vehemently behind her back.

 

                “He’s also...” He looked at her mother again, waiting for her to glance back at him.  “He’s also a bully.”

 

                For a moment, Nana just stared at him, astonishment evident in her features.

 

                And then she giggled.  “Oh, Tsu-kun, I know Nari can be a bit rough around the edges but he’s a kind boy!  You should know your own brother.  Are you... jealous of him?  There’s really no need to be!  Where would Mama be without her useless son to balance everything out?”

 

                Tsuna stood there, stunned.

 

                What?

 

                _What?_

 

                “Mom, I'm not jealous!”  Tsuna exploded in a rare display of irritation.  “Nari _is_ a bully!  Some of the younger kids at school are afraid of him!”

 

                A sniff from the doorway made Tsuna jump and spin around.  Nari stood there, watery-eyed and a hurt look on his face.

 

                “Tsuna, what are you saying?”  Nari whined, looking ready to burst into tears.

 

                Nana all but flew over to his side.

 

                “Now look what you've done, Tsu-kun!”  Nana fretted, pulling Nari into a hug.  “Don’t worry, Na-kun, your brother didn't mean it.  Tsu-kun, you should apologize!”

 

                Tsuna stared for a heartbeat longer, taking in the nasty grin Nari shot him from behind Nana’s arms before turning on his heel and storming out of the house.

 

                He’d apologize when hell froze over.

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More good news^_^ I have chapter 3 written up as well! Just need to clean it up a bit. Lots more Nari next time and he gets significantly worse. Next chapter should be the last of Tsuna’s years in Namimori before he leaves.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
> 
> Iemitsu wouldn't know all that much about what’s going on at home and the rift between his family since I don’t think even canon Nana really tells him anything. He doesn’t call home enough or long enough for Nana to tell him anything either, and this Nana would also be the type to tell Iemitsu all the good things about Nari, etc, but not really say anything about Tsuna.
> 
> No meetings between Tsuna and the rest of the Hibari family (yet). Might fit that in later on if I can tie it into the fic without making it seem as if I just dropped them into the plot like a brick.
> 
> And people, for the last time, there are NO PAIRINGS. Please read the ANs and warnings. I don’t put them there to take up space.

               “Happy eleventh birthday, Kyouya-senpai!”  Tsuna said earnestly, thrusting a gift-wrapped package into the prefect’s hands.

 

                Kyouya adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder with one hand, a tinge of genuine surprise entering his expression.  Tsuna didn't know why.  Did the prefect think he wouldn't get him anything?

 

                A minute later, Kyouya was pulling out a button-up coat, patterned with wide stripes of two different shades of purple.  It was light but warm, and even had a collar to block the wind if necessary.

 

                “You never wear anything except your school uniform when you go out,” Tsuna rushed to clarify his choice.  “Or that black jacket which is going to get too small for you soon anyway.  Plus, this one matches your flames.”

 

                He grew worried when Kyouya only stared at the jacket, one thumb brushing against the inside of the collar where his initials had been sewn on in cursive black.  “Senpai?  Er, if you don’t like it, I still have the receipt-”

 

                He fell silent when a hand dropped on his head and ruffled his hair in an almost frighteningly affectionate gesture.  That was a first.

 

                “I like it,” Kyouya stated curtly, withdrawing to fold up the coat again.  “Thank you.”

 

He said nothing more, no elaborate show of thanks or happy grins, but Tsuna relaxed and grinned for the both of them.

 

                Tsuna wasn’t surprised when Kyouya met him for lunch the next day sporting the new coat.

 

**{3}**

 

                “Your time’s over, Shiraishi.  Just hand Shuurai-gumi over to us-”

 

                “Over or not, it’s still ten years too early for you to even think about taking me on.  You’ll pay for this.”

 

                Tsuna hadn't meant to stumble onto the showdown in front of him but he was beginning to realize that he had a knack for finding trouble without meaning to.  That, or trouble just seemed to find him.

 

                Besides, he had only been walking to school.  It wasn't his fault that the yakuza had decided to have their altercation on one of the side streets Tsuna usually passed by.

 

                “Ah, but that’s the thing, Shiraishi.  Aniki himself ordered this so I really don’t think we’ll be the ones paying.”

 

                “Bullshit.  Shin would never-”

 

                “That’s the thing about you, Shiraishi – you’re too naive.  For all your talk, you still believe Aniki to be that little weakling who used to follow you around-”

 

                “Shin was _never_ a weakling.  He took over Shuurai-gumi to change it.”

 

                “And he has.  We’ve become more powerful, and he’s finally stepping out of your shadow and taking his rightful place as our boss.  You’re just holding him back by making alliances with the Skylark and stopping us from roughing up the civilians.  We’re yakuza!  We need to let them know who’s in charge!”

 

                “Enough talk.  Shiraishi, for the sake of old times, if you swear to leave Shuurai-gumi and never return, we’ll leave you alone.  You can even stay in Namimori.”

 

                “Ha!  Make terms after you’ve won, bastards!”

 

                And even Tsuna, who was used to watching Kyouya fight, was impressed with the beat down that Shiraishi promptly handed out, a white blur whirling between the thirty yakuza sent to take him out.

 

                Twenty-seven unconscious bodies later, Tsuna was weighing the pros and cons of stepping in to help.  Shiraishi was good – the bruised and bloodied bodies attested to that – but he had also been injured and the last three were circling Shiraishi like coyotes cornering their prey.

 

                It made Tsuna just a bit sick that people who were supposed to stick together could so easily turn on each other like this.

 

                “Give up, Shiraishi,” One of the three yakuza jeered, brass knuckles gleaming under the sunlight.  “You don’t stand a chance.”

 

                Shiraishi only wiped carelessly at a trickle of blood coming from a gash on his forehead.  “You talk too much, Yosai.  Let’s finish this.  I’ve got an appointment with our dear boss to get to.”

 

                Two of the yakuza sneered and lunged forward with twin shouts.  Shiraishi twisted out of the way of an oncoming fist and sank a knee into the left one’s stomach with enough force to floor him for good.

 

He staggered a step to the side when the one on the right managed to get a solid hit against Shiraishi’s ribs, but the Second – now former – whirled and delivered a jaw-breaking uppercut to his assailant.

 

It dropped the yakuza like a sack of potatoes.

 

It also left Shiraishi’s back wide open.

 

Tsuna acted before he could really stop and think about it.  He was nothing if not prepared so while the battle had been going on, he had quickly calculated the strength of someone’s clothesline currently attached to the slim tree branch above his head, the length of said clothesline that extended across the nearby house’s yard, the backlash of the taut clothesline that would sweep a wide path in the air when suddenly released, and the numerous clothes that would rain down right where the attacking yakuza would be...

 

Tsuna reached up and cut the clothesline with a sharp rock.

 

...now.

 

In mid-leap, the yakuza yelped when multi-coloured shirts caught him full in the face.  His arms flailed and the knife in his hand clattered uselessly to the ground as he went down in a tangle of clothes and limbs.

 

It also gave Shiraishi plenty of time to spin on his heel and take the man down with a swift kick to his temple.

 

Tsuna winced.  He hoped the yakuza wasn't dead, no matter what he’d done.

 

And then blue eyes sliced across the street, obviously searching for the unknown source of assistance, and without pausing, Tsuna hastily ducked out of sight and hurried away.  He didn't particularly want to get involved, and it was enough to know that Shiraishi was safe now.

 

Besides, if he was late for school _again_ , Kyouya would flip out.

 

**{3}**

 

                Tsuna stifled another sigh as he propped his head up with one hand and watched the game below.  It figured that one of the few times that Nana didn't forget him, it would be to take him to one of Nari’s soccer games.  He didn't even _like_ soccer.

 

                Though even Tsuna could see how good Nari was – his brother certainly wasn't captain based on popularity alone.

 

                Nari zipped across the field, ball practically glued to his feet as he cut sharply between his opponents.  He wasn't a ball hog either, passing to his teammates when they were open and shouting formations with an authoritative self-assurance that made him seem older than his age, not to mention ensured the instant obedience of his entire team.

 

                The crowd erupted into cheers when Nari weaved into open space and intercepted a pass between two of the opposing team members before rotating and firing the ball past the goalkeeper, the kick so strong that it made the soccer ball look like a mere blur of black-and-white.

 

                The game ended with a score of 5-2, giving Namimori Elementary the win.  Tsuna only half-listened to Nana’s bubbly praise as they made their way down to the celebrating team with the other families.

 

                “Na-kun, you were amazing!”  Nana cooed when Nari extracted himself from the back-slapping and congratulations of his teammates.

 

                Nari grinned at her, bright-eyed and brilliant and still running on an adrenaline high, and for a second, Tsuna felt a sting of sheer nostalgia because _how many years had it been since he had last seen his brother look this happy with Tsuna in the vicinity?_

 

                He blinked, and the expression was gone, replaced by the much more familiar scorn of his eight-year-old twin when the blond registered that Tsuna was standing in front of him.

 

                “Bet _you_ couldn't have even dribbled the ball halfway across the field, Dame-Tsuna,” Nari jeered as Nana swept off to buy a bottle of water for him.

 

                Tsuna clung on to the untainted happiness he had caught a glimpse of for a fraction of a second and offered a strangled smile.  “You did really well, Nari.”

 

                “Of course I did,” Nari snapped patronizingly.  “I’m not the failure here.  Why are you even at my soccer game anyway?  Being seen with you is an embarrassment.”

 

                Tsuna’s jaw tightened as his temper flared.  “Ever thought _I_ might be embarrassed to be seen with _you_?”

 

                An ugly sneer instantly twisted Nari’s features.  “You should be grateful that I even talk to you, Dame-Tsuna!  You’re nothing by yourself!  God, why did I have to be born with you for a brother?  It would’ve been so much better if I had been an only child!”

 

                Tsuna’s right hand balled into a fist and made an aborted movement forward before he could stop it completely.  No, he couldn't hit Nari.  This was still his brother.

               

                Nari saw it and scoffed, kicking at a stone on the ground.  Tsuna sidestepped it before it could hit him.  At least Nari couldn't hurt him with everyone watching.

 

“Get lost, Dame-Tsuna,” Nari spat out.  “Nobody wants you around.  In fact, I wish you’d just do me a favour and disappear.”

 

                With that said, Nari marched away, pausing only to exchange a few words with Nana and take the water from her before returning to his friends.  Nana lingered on the side, smiling happily as she stared at Nari.

 

                Tsuna watched them both for a long minute and then turned on his heel and left.  He had better things to do with his time.

 

**{3}**

 

                “Who are _you_?”

 

                “None of your business, kid.”

 

                “Hey, you can’t talk to me like that!  Besides this is my house!”

 

                “And I'm not standing in your house, am I?  Or even your lawn.”

 

                “You’re standing out front and you look suspicious.  I mean look at your clothes!  Are you some homeless guy?  Go stand somewhere else!”

 

                “Geez, brat, rude much?”

 

                “Don't call me brat!  And I’m not rude; you’re the one trespassing.  Go away!”

 

                “The street isn’t yours, _brat_.  Heck, are you sure you live at this house?”

 

                Tsuna lifted his book from his face, stirring from his half-doze as he stared up at the sky.  He was lying on the living room floor and the front porch doors were opened to let in the summer breeze so he could hear Nari quite well.

 

                The other voice... Wasn’t the other voice-

 

                He sat up, clapping his book shut and heading outside, pausing only long enough to slip a pair of sandals on.

 

                “Of course I’m sure!  Beat it!”

 

                Tsuna jogged through the front gate and turned just in time to see Nari stomp forward and attempt to shove the familiar white-haired man backwards.

 

                “Ienari!”  Tsuna barked, a surge of disgusted fury strengthening his voice and stopping Nari dead in his tracks.  “What do you think you’re doing?!”

 

                Unfortunately, Nari only froze for a few heartbeats before his brain kicked in again and he spun around, a sneer already etched on his face.  “What’s it to you, Dame-Tsuna?  I can do whatever I want!”

 

                Tsuna narrowed his eyes.  “One day, Nari, you’re going to learn that you really, _really_ can’t.  Now get back in the house.”

 

                Nari crossed his arms defiantly.  “Don’t order me around, loser!  Mom put me in charge-”

 

                “I said, _get back in the house_!”  Tsuna snapped, not in any mood for humouring Nari, especially when he caught a glimpse of crimson peeking out from Shiraishi’s jacket.  It was too hot for jackets in the first place.  “I don’t particularly care if Mom put God in charge!  Go inside!  _Now_!”

 

                Perhaps it was because Tsuna had never raised his voice to Nari before, or to anyone else for that matter, but the blond actually listened.  Not without reluctance of course, and if looks could kill, Tsuna would’ve been struck dead on the spot, but Nari went.

 

                “I’ll tell Mom!”  Nari spat out, face red with rage, as he disappeared into the house.

 

                Tsuna stared after him for a moment.  He doubted this would work twice.  With a sigh, he rubbed a hand over his forehead.  Handling Nari was just asking for a headache.

 

                And then he remembered the blood, and now that there was no brother to distract him, he could actually smell a weak tang of copper in the air.

 

                “Shiraishi-san!”  Tsuna hurried forward, hands hovering uncertainly over the man’s jacket before latching on to a hand instead.  “Come on, I’ll help you patch that up.  Were you waiting outside?  You could've just rung the doorbell.”

 

                “And scare whoever answered looking like this?”  Shiraishi’s voice held a shadow of sardonic humour.  “...Was that your brother?  You’re nothing alike.”

 

                “Hmm?”  Tsuna led the yakuza into his front yard and sat him down on the front porch.  “Yes, that was Nari.  Sorry about him.  Now wait here – I’ll be right back.”

 

                He scampered off into the house and grabbed the first-aid kit from the bathroom before zooming back to Shiraishi’s side.

 

                “Kid, you are something else,” Shiraishi remarked as Tsuna tugged off the man’s jacket and shirt, making a face at the messily bandaged gash that was revealed.  He spotted bruises marring the yakuza’s skin and a cut through a hole in Shiraishi’s faded blue jeans, but he couldn't really do anything for the former and the latter was shallow and not bleeding.  The injury at his abdomen was the worst one.

 

“Has it occurred to you that I'm a criminal?”

 

                “Well you tracked me down for a reason,” Tsuna pointed out matter-of-factly as he began peeling off the dirty bandages.  “So I might as well patch you up while you talk.  And what kind of yakuza are you?  Shouldn't you have better knowledge of first-aid?”

 

                “You’re a... what, eight-year-old?  Shouldn't you have _less_ knowledge of first-aid?”  Shiraishi countered, watching Tsuna intently as he cleaned out the wound.

 

                “Kyouya-senpai’s my best friend,” Tsuna deadpanned.  “He’s good, but he still gets hurt sometimes.”

 

                Silence fell between them for a while, neither speaking until Tsuna had finished wrapping a new set of bandages around Shiraishi’s abdomen.

 

                “I’m incinerating this shirt,” Tsuna said determinedly, picking up the stained white shirt that Shiraishi had discarded.  “You’ll just have to find another one.”

 

                A huff of laughter answered him before the yakuza opened the duffel bag he had been carrying and withdrew a clean shirt, also a button-up white short-sleeve.  “Happy?”

 

                “Somewhat,” Tsuna replied loftily, gathering up the kit and garbage.  When he returned, Shiraishi was still on his porch, staring out across the lawn without really seeing anything.

 

                Tsuna said nothing, only taking a seat beside him and waiting patiently for the yakuza to speak.

 

                “That’s twice I owe you now,” Shiraishi said at last, not looking at Tsuna.  “Although I'm afraid Shuurai-gumi won’t be an option anymore if you ever need manpower.”

 

                “I won’t need manpower,” Tsuna slanted an assessing glance at the yakuza.  “...So you saw me after all.”

 

                “Don’t know why you ran,” Shiraishi finally looked at him, blue eyes glittering.  “I wouldn't have hurt you.”

 

                “I know,” Tsuna conceded.  “But I didn't want to get involved.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

 

                Shiraishi continued studying him like Tsuna was an exceptionally fascinating specimen of some kind.  “You’re a weird kid, you know that?”

 

                Tsuna scowled back at him, receiving a faint smirk in return.  He settled for ignoring Shiraishi and took in the duffel bag instead.  “Are... Are you leaving?”

 

                “Can’t exactly stay here anymore,” Shiraishi fingered the bruise marring one of his cheekbones.  “Had it out with my- with Shin.  We beat each other up and then I got the hell outta there when he called for backup.”

 

                “So they won’t let you just stay in Namimori anymore?”  Tsuna enquired.

 

                Shiraishi looked almost smug for a moment.  “Best thing about being the second-in-command – I was in charge of most of the businesses we ran, legal and illegal.  Shin delegated most of the stocks and investments we had to me as well.  Shuurai-gumi’s gonna suffer enough without me around to manage all that, but I also took the liberty of destroying most of those income sources before I left.  Shuurai-gumi’s as good as crippled now – they’ll never fully recover.  Course, that also puts a target on my head so I’m skipping town while I still have legs to skip out on.”

 

                A dark cast fell over Shiraishi’s expression again.  Tsuna wracked his mind for something to say, but for all the languages he knew, he couldn't find anything to make this better.  He had a feeling that Shiraishi and this ‘Shin’ person had been friends once upon a time, perhaps childhood friends, but the latter had betrayed the former and Shiraishi was now being chased out of town after tearing down the yakuza syndicate that Shiriashi clearly disapproved of.

 

Tsuna didn't truly know the circumstances though, and it felt like an intrusion of privacy and just... not _enough_ to say things like ‘I understand’ or ‘I’m sorry’ or other trivial platitudes that wouldn't even begin healing the wound left by the betrayal still weighing Shiraishi down.

 

                Tsuna didn't even want to think about Kyouya ever betraying him, and Tsuna would sooner throw himself off a bridge before he so much as considered betraying the prefect.  And _that_ was how he felt after less than two years of friendship.  Shiraishi must feel terrible.

 

                He bit his lip, and then reached out and curled his fingers around one of the man’s callused hands.  The knuckles were scratched and some of the skin had been split open but Tsuna paid it no mind.  He stared straight ahead and offered what little comfort he could provide to the near-stranger.  He knew better than anyone that just having someone there was far better than nothing at all.

 

                Shiraishi’s hand twitched under his but the man didn't pull away and they sat in a comfortable silence for a long while, neither saying a word until the first streaks of sunset splashed across the sky, setting the horizon aflame.

 

                Shiraishi stirred and Tsuna withdrew, slipping off the porch and shaking out the stiffness in his muscles.  When he turned around, the yakuza – ex-yakuza now – was staring at him with that same strange expression he had been wearing back in the warehouse months earlier.

 

                “You’re a weird kid,” Shiraishi repeated, standing up as well.  He looked bemused now but he smiled and ruffled Tsuna’s hair in a fond gesture.  “Thanks, Tsunayoshi.  The number I gave you is private – no one else knows it – so if you ever need anything, just give me a call.  Forget the address though – it’s useless now.”

 

                Tsuna nodded and walked the man to the front gate, speedily digging into his pockets and pulling out a pen and notepaper.  “Be careful.  If _you_ ever need anything, you can call me too.  I know I’m just eight but I can be very resourceful.”

 

                For the first time since Tsuna had met him, Shiraishi’s eyes softened and the melancholy that had dulled them for so long faded briefly.  The man accepted the cell number with a nod.

 

                “We’ll see each other again,” Shiraishi predicted as he made to turn away, bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder.  A fleeting grin crossed his face.  “Or maybe you’ll form a yakuza group when you grow up and I’ll repay you by joining it.”

 

                Tsuna scoffed.  “As if I’d ever.  How troublesome.”

 

                Shiraishi laughed this time, quiet but genuine.  “Well, I’ll promise anyway.  If you ever go and create an organization of any sort, criminal or otherwise, I promise I’ll come back and join it.”

 

                As Tsuna waved goodbye to the white-haired man, not returning inside until Shiraishi was out of sight, he mulled over the ex-yakuza’s words.

 

                _Creating an organization?  Me?_   _For what purpose?_  He snorted, shaking his head.  _As if._

 

**{3}**

 

                “Shuurai-gumi’s fallen,” Kyouya reported as they snacked on their respective ice-creams under one of the trees in the park.  “And it seems Shiraishi’s gone.”

 

                Tsuna said nothing, hiding a smile behind his ice-cream.

 

                Kyouya eyed him critically.  “Did you have a hand in it?”

 

                “Of course not!”  Tsuna protested.  “How would I go about taking down a yakuza group?  Shiraishi-san did it, not me.”

 

                Kyouya arched an eyebrow that silently demanded answers.

 

                Tsuna pouted.  “From what I gathered, there was internal conflict in Shuurai-gumi.  That Shin guy-”

 

                “Muraoka Shinzou,” Kyouya provided helpfully.  “Head of Shuurai-gumi.”

 

                “Yeah, him,” Tsuna nodded.  “He sent some of his people to get rid of Shiraishi-san because they all thought he was holding their boss back, including the boss, but Shiraishi-san kicked their asses and destroyed their businesses.  That’s why he’s left town though.  He can’t stay here anymore.”

 

                Kyouya snorted.  “Yakuza.  The only ones more unruly are the mafia and the Triads.”

 

                Tsuna shrugged, holding back a snicker at the long-suffering look on Kyouya’s face.  “I don’t know, Senpai.  I’ve met worse people than Shiraishi-san.”

 

                Kyouya shook his head and polished off the rest of his cone.  “Only you could make friends with yakuza, Tsunayoshi.”

 

                Tsuna grinned unrepentantly.

 

**~9 Years Old~**

 

                “My dad’s home for the month,” Tsuna revealed as Kyouya guided him through the delivery of an arm pin that would disarm a knife-wielding opponent.

 

                Kyouya drew Tsuna’s arm forward even as he glanced up.  “That long?  Vongola must be running out of people to kill.”

 

                Tsuna could practically see the sarcasm dripping off the prefect’s voice.  His mouth twitched.

 

                “I found something new though,” He persisted.  “I haven’t stopped running searches on Vongola through the fake construction company.  I finally found a small hole in their security network yesterday that didn't bounce me right back out.  I managed to copy a few things connected to my dad’s name before I had to pull out or they’d catch me.”

 

                Tsuna paused and executed a watered-down kama kote on Kyouya that earned a nod of approval from the prefect.

 

                “So,” Tsuna caught the water bottle Kyouya tossed at him.  “What is CEDEF?”

 

                Kyouya frowned, taking a gulp of water from his own bottle.  “I don’t know the Italian but it translates to the External Advisors of the Family.  Your father is part of CEDEF?”

 

                “Looks like,” Tsuna nodded, brow furrowing in thought.  “From what I got, he’s supposed to be the leader.”

 

                Kyouya coughed, hastily lowering his water.  Tsuna tilted his head.  “Is that really important?”

 

                Kyouya motioned for him to sit down on the porch as the prefect leaned against one of the wooden beams.  “I do not know a lot, but the general idea is that CEDEF is a secret intelligence organization independent from the Vongola.  They remain outside the direct control of the main Family, and hold very little power during times of peace, but I hear that they have as much voting power as the Vongola Boss when choosing their Family’s next boss.  If the Boss and the leader of the CEDEF disagree on who the heir will be, the CEDEF leader has the power to recommend their own candidate.  I think the two candidates then fight over the title, and whoever wins will become heir.”

 

Tsuna soaked the information in, rolling onto his back to stare up at the sky.

 

“It makes sense, actually,” Kyouya remarked.  “CEDEF’s headquarters is supposed to be disguised as an ordinary business’ building.  Construction works.”

 

“Huh,” Tsuna scrubbed a hand over his face.  “Not much of a disguise if they’ve got Vongola scrawled across the company.”

 

“Vongola is famous in the underworld and amongst some of the law enforcements but ordinary people wouldn't know of them,” Kyouya corrected, tossing his towel aside and taking a seat as well.

 

Tsuna hummed noncommittally at this.  “Dad’s pretty important though.  No wonder he’s never home.”

 

Kyouya scoffed but didn't comment.  It was the only indication that meant that Iemitsu ranked a few levels above Nana and Nari in the prefect’s book.

 

A comfortable silence fell between them as Tsuna returned his gaze to the sky.  It was very clear today, with only a smatter of white clouds dispersed across it like flecks of white paint splashed over a blue canvas.

 

                “You ever thought about leaving Namimori, Kyouya-senpai?”  Tsuna asked, feeling introspective all of a sudden.

 

                Kyouya slanted a sidelong look at him as he leaned back on his hands.  “Namimori is my home.”

 

                Tsuna hummed.  “What about for university or something?  Or a job that might take you overseas?”

 

                Kyouya was quiet for several seconds.  “I will leave for those, but I’ll always return to Namimori.  Nothing could make me leave permanently.  ...What about you?”

 

                Tsuna draped an arm over his eyes.  “Well, so long as you’re around, Namimori’s... not that bad.”

 

**{3}**

 

                “You’re very quiet nowadays, Tsuna,” Iemitsu said as he sat on the edge of Tsuna’s bed, smoothing down the blanket as Tsuna lied down.

 

                Tsuna glanced up at him.  “Really?  I don’t think I've been any different.”

 

                Iemitsu smiled but there was a troubled edge to it.  “You barely talk at all over meals.  You stay out a lot too.”

 

                Tsuna reviewed the past two weeks.  It took a moment for him to realize what Iemitsu was seeing.  For Tsuna, it was no different than what he’d been doing for the past three or so years, but for his dad who hadn't seen him since he was six, it probably seemed as if Tsuna was avoiding the house like the plague and distancing himself as much as possible from the rest of the family.

 

                “Is it me?”

 

                Tsuna’s head jerked up.  Iemitsu looked crestfallen.

 

                “You’re still angry with Papa, aren’t you?”  The blond guessed.

 

                Tsuna shook his head fervently.  “Dad, I can’t hold grudges that long.  It’s not you.  I just... I like spending time with Kyouya-senpai, and Mom and Nari have always been close so it probably just seems like I sort of fade into the background.”

 

                Iemitsu sighed but he at least seemed to believe Tsuna about not being angry anymore.

 

                “If you say so, Tsuna,” His father stood and pulled up the covers.  “But you know you can tell me anything, right?  Papa might not be home much but he still loves both his boys very much.”

 

Tsuna hid a wistful smile and nodded instead.  Somehow, he couldn't quite believe his father’s words.

 

“Sweet dreams then,” Iemitsu smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the expression.  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

                “Goodnight, Dad,” Tsuna returned, and for a single breath, as Iemitsu headed for the door, the part of Tsuna that was neither genius nor forced to grow up in a household that more or less neglected him – the _child_ part – wanted to call his father back, tell the man that Nari hated him and Nana didn't care about him, and that the only person Tsuna honestly considered family wasn't even related by blood.

 

                But he didn't, because he knew that Iemitsu loved Nana more than anything and loved Nari as much as Tsuna if not more.  There was no point making claims that wouldn't be believed anyway.

 

**{3}**

“This is Kusakabe Tetsuya,” Kyouya introduced formally.  “He’s the cousin I mentioned.  He’ll be transferring into Namimori Middle in September.”

 

                Tsuna stared from one boy to the other as he shook hands with the rather tall twelve-year-old wearing gelled-back hair and a disconcertingly self-conscious look that didn't seem to belong on the already maturing features.

 

When Kyouya had told him of a family member’s imminent arrival, Tsuna had pictured another Kyouya.

 

                “Nice to meet you,” Tsuna offered a friendly smile.  “I hope you don’t mind me saying – you two don’t look alike at all.”

 

                “We both have black hair,” Kyouya pointed out when Kusakabe didn't seem to know what to say.

 

                “Two-thirds of Japan’s population has black hair,” Tsuna retorted.

 

                Kyouya grunted.  “We’re fourth cousins.”

 

                Ah.  So perhaps they were raised differently as well.

 

Tsuna looked up at Kusakabe again and asked cheerfully, “So where are you from anyway?  Overseas?  Are you going to live with Kyouya-senpai?  Wait, Senpai already said you were.  Then can you fight like Kyouya-senpai?  You’re not going to go around biting people to death as well, are you?”

 

                The rapid-fire questions and Tsuna’s refusal to let any awkwardness invade the space around them went a long way in settling Kusakabe, and after a few uncertain glances in Kyouya’s direction (it wasn't hard for Tsuna to pick up the fact that Kusakabe seemed to automatically defer to Kyouya), the twelve-year-old was soon answering Tsuna with a small smile on his face and a relieved air about him.

**~10 Years Old~**

 

                “G’mornin’, Kyouya-senpai, Tetsu-senpai,” Tsuna yawned as he joined them at the street corner.   He almost crashed into a stop sign before Kyouya reached out and yanked him back.  “Oops.”

 

                “Did you stay up all night?”  Tetsuya enquired as they crossed the street.

 

                “Nari wouldn't stop watching movies in his room,” Tsuna snapped touchily.  “He’s got a dentist’s appointment today so he doesn't have school.”

 

                “And your mom lets him?”  Tetsuya asked dubiously.  The middle-schooler still wasn't quite used to the Sawada family’s tendencies.

 

                “His mother lets the pathetic herbivore do anything,” Kyouya groused, sounding personally insulted.  “I will be sure to bite him to death tomorrow.”

 

                They split up when they reached Namimori Elementary, with Tetsuya waving goodbye and heading for Namimori Middle one block down.  The twelve-year-old was in his first year of middle school while Kyouya would be joining him in the coming year and Tsuna in another two, though the prefect had already wormed his way into Namimori Middle’s administration, helping Tetsuya set up the beginnings of a disciplinary committee fully approved of by the principal and school board.  In Tsuna’s opinion, the committee was going to become a force to be reckoned with one day – the strike-terror-in-the-hearts-of-herbivores-everywhere sort.

 

                As they headed inside, Tsuna paused at the front doors, turning with a frown to scan the courtyard.

 

                “What’s wrong?”  Kyouya prompted from his left.

 

                Tsuna shook his head.  “It’s nothing.  I just felt a bit uneasy all of a sudden.  Let’s go.”

 

                The alarm bells in his head continued to ring though, and the prickly discomfort remained with him throughout the rest of the day.

 

**{3}**

 

                Nari didn't think he had ever... _hated_ someone as much as he did Tsuna.  It didn't matter that Tsuna was his brother, his twin – the brunet was a thorn in his side, always messing up and being a loser and still so happy about his life in general.  There were those times that Tsuna would pretend to be smart too, muttering to himself in another language and piling stacks of books written in foreign languages in front of him – as if Dame-Tsuna could _really_ read them.

 

Their mother clearly didn't care about Tsuna, and their father liked Nari better because _Nari_ was the one with the special power, the one who would be someone powerful someday, the one who was _special_.

 

                Tsuna was _nothing_ , and for a while, Nari had thought that that would be enough to push his brother into the corner he belonged in.  He had seen the hopeless hurt on his twin’s face every time their mother called him useless or Nari kicked him down.

 

                It wasn't like that anymore.

 

                Nari knew what had changed – that psychotic dog who bit people to death and was _allowed_ to by the teachers, the one who always paid him back tenfold if there was so much as a scratch on Tsuna, had deemed the pathetic waste of space as someone worth knowing.

 

                What did Hibari see in Nari’s brother anyway?  Nari was so much better and yet the prefect honestly seemed to hate his very existence.  Tsuna was weak and stupid and not worth anyone’s time of day.  The other kids shunned him and laughed at him and the teachers had all given up on him.  He was an embarrassment to Nari, a shameful burden because his twin just failed at everything yet still received attention from their dad.  Iemitsu was away so much – why did he insist on wasting precious time on Tsuna whenever he came home?

 

And someone as strong as Hibari Kyouya had all but glued himself to Tsuna’s side.  It had gotten to the point where Nari had been forced to stay away from Tsuna for the most part, not wanting to get beaten up again for putting Tsuna in his place.

 

                Not anymore though.  Nari wasn't going to stand being pushed around anymore.  Tsuna was making his life miserable and his brother would pay for it.

 

                Taking a deep breath to steady the wired anticipation in his gut, he kept an ear out for his mother who was downstairs vacuuming the living room and quickly picked his brother’s bedroom door, entering on silent footsteps.

 

                It had taken a while, but he had managed to convince an older student to sell one of Nari’s friends a lighter and a cigarette, who had then given it to Nari, and his mom had rubbing alcohol in the house.  He had been careful to wipe his fingerprints from them.

 

                Tsuna was a light sleeper though so he’d have to plant the alcohol now, along with an air freshener and maybe an open window so the smell, however slight, wouldn't linger.

 

                Meticulously, he poured the bottle of rubbing alcohol under Tsuna’s bed.  Nari’s accuracy was very good – he’d be able to flick a lit cigarette close enough to the alcohol to cause a reaction from the doorway.

 

                Once the bottle was empty, the window opened, and an air freshener plugged into the socket, Nari tiptoed out again, locking the door once more.

 

                He was doing everyone, especially himself, a favour.  Their mom wouldn't have to put up with a useless son, their dad would have more time for Nari, and Nari wouldn't have to live with such a disgrace.

 

                Everyone won.

 

**{3}**

 

                “You sure you’re alright, Tsuna-san?”  Tetsuya asked as Tsuna was about to turn down his street.  No matter what Tsuna had said, the older student had gotten it into his head that he was to be respected on the same level as Kyouya and absolutely refused to drop the honorific.  It had been rather perturbing at first but Tsuna had had a hard enough time persuading Tetsuya to refer to himself and Kyouya by their first names so he had relented in the end.  Tsuna had eventually gotten used to it.

 

                “I’m fine,” Tsuna smiled and waved at both of them.  “I guess the lack of sleep is really getting to me.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

                Kyouya narrowed his eyes at Tsuna but relented after a long second, and the three parted ways once more.

 

                The unsettling feeling stayed with Tsuna even when he was getting ready for bed that night.  Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he huffed and climbed into bed.  Some sleep might make it go away, or maybe he was coming down with something.

 

                Over the next hour, he drifted in and out of consciousness, and when he finally did fall asleep, it was agitated at best, fuzzy voices that he couldn't quite make out buzzing in his ears as he dreamed of darkness and danger and he was running because something was chasing him but he couldn't get anywhere because his feet sank with each step and that something was dragging him downdowndown-

 

                Tsuna jerked awake, gasping for breath, only to choke in a lungful of thick vapour that clogged his throat and clouded his brain and what was going on-

 

                _GET OUT!_   His mind screamed, and Tsuna’s body obeyed without question.

 

                He lunged for the door, frantically throwing it open and diving out into the hall just in time as a minor explosion tore out a chunk of his bed and a tongue of fire burst from under it, setting the sheets on fire in the blink of an eye.  The tail-end of the explosion caught Tsuna’s heels, raking a searing line up his left calf as he was lifted off his feet and tossed into the opposite wall.

 

                Stunned, he barely heard Nana’s door slam open and her alarmed exclamation.

 

                By the time Tsuna managed to clear the fog from his mind, the police and fire department was outside, _he_ was outside, a doctor was checking him over, and Nari was standing off to the left with Nana’s arms around him as his twin whimpered fearfully.

 

                Tsuna was the only one who saw Nari’s hateful gaze aimed at him.

 

                “You almost killed me,” Tsuna whispered, horrified.  “What the hell did I ever do to you?”

 

                “Please don’t talk just yet,” The doctor instructed, evidently not hearing him above the wailing sirens and amalgam of voices.  “Take slow, deep breaths.  There shouldn't be any lasting damage but I want to be certain.  An overnight stay at the hospital would be best.”

 

                “Is that necessary?”  Nana spoke up, still patting Nari on the shoulder.  “You said Tsu-kun hasn’t breathed in much of the fumes, and Na-kun tells me that Tsu-kun has been playing with a lighter lately.  If there’s no lasting damage, he shouldn't be comforted for something that is his fault.  It will cost enough money to repair the house.”

 

                Tsuna felt like he couldn't breathe.  So that was it then.  Solid proof that Nana really didn't care about him, taking Nari’s word without even talking to Tsuna first.

 

                “Ma’am,” The doctor was saying, and if Tsuna didn't feel like someone had hit him over the head with a club, he would’ve caught the slight trace of disbelief in the man’s voice.  “I really think it would be best to take him to the hospital.”

 

                Before Nana could object again, Tsuna raised his head.

 

                “It’s fine,” He said quietly, inwardly cringing at the gravelly tone his voice had taken on.  “Thank you, but I’m alright.”

 

                The doctor looked taken aback.  “Kid, I don’t think-”

 

                “Even Tsu-kun says it’s alright,” Nana interjected, already ushering Na-kun to the car.  “Now I believe that’s enough excitement for tonight.  Na-kun still needs to go to school tomorrow.  We will stay at a nearby hotel until we can return.  Come along, Tsu-kun.”

 

                Tsuna slid listlessly onto his feet, barely feeling the throbbing pain in his leg.

 

                “Kid-” The doctor looked torn, glancing between Tsuna and his mother.

 

                Tsuna sketched a polite bow.  “Thank you for treating me, sir.  Goodnight.”

 

                And without waiting for a reply, he limped after his family, a family that Tsuna wished right then and there, with all his heart, wasn't his family at all.

 

**{3}**

 

                “What happened?”  Kyouya demanded the second Tsuna limped through the front doors of Namimori Elementary.  School had already started so Tsuna had been hoping that the prefect would’ve already gone to class.

 

                This obviously wasn't the case.

 

                “Nothing,” He muttered, clearing his throat.  He opened his locker and grabbed the shoes inside.  “Shouldn't you be in class?”

 

                “The last two times you didn't show up, I found you half-drowned by the river and abducted by yakuza,” Kyouya snapped back.  “Now _what. Happened._ ”

 

                “I said nothing!”  Tsuna barked, and then coughed, his throat grating uncomfortably when he tried to raise his voice.

 

                Next thing he knew, Kyouya had knocked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling to the ground, and before Tsuna could even think about resisting, the prefect had Tsuna pinned with one hand on his right knee as the other jerked up his left pant leg.

 

                “Kyouya!”  Tsuna cried out, but he was too tired to fight, too tired to lie, too tired to explain, and he ended up slumping against the lockers instead.

 

                Kyouya stared at the white bandages wrapped around his leg.  When he spoke, even Tsuna tensed at the utterly detached but potent wrath in the prefect’s voice.

 

                “ _I will kill him_.”

 

                Tsuna stared.  “You don’t even know it was Nari.”

 

                Despite the sheer rage that seemed to leech most of the colour from Kyouya’s face, leaving slate-grey eyes that spoke of murder, the prefect’s fingers were gentle as they probed the reddened skin peeking out from the bandages.

 

                “You just confirmed it,” Kyouya pointed out calmly.  “What happened?  And don’t tell me ‘nothing’.”

 

                Tsuna swallowed, bitterness welling up like bile.  “...Nari tried to- He tried to hurt me.”

 

                Kyouya studied him, always far too perceptive for a twelve-year-old.

 

                “He tried to kill you,” The prefect finally gauged.  “He’s hurt you before.  This was worse.  He tried to kill you, and since he’s sitting in class right now, I’ll assume that woman either believes whatever happened to be an accident or your fault.”

 

                Tsuna crumpled into himself.  “I don’t know what I did wrong, Senpai.  Maybe- Maybe I should’ve done my best all these years?  Showed how smart I was?  Or-”

 

                “That pathetic _cockroach_ is ruled by jealousy,” Kyouya spat out venomously.  “He would’ve been just as bad if you had shown your academic prowess, if not worse.  The fault lies with him and his mother; not you.”

 

                Kyouya never said ‘your’ mother anymore.  Tsuna knew that as far as the prefect was concerned, Sawada Nana was not Tsuna’s mother.

 

                “I just-” Tsuna closed his eyes for a moment.  “The police found rubbing alcohol in my room but even Mom said I- well you know how clumsy I can be.  I've used the rubbing alcohol before.  The whole thing’s been labelled an accident, and I just want to put this behind me, so let it go, Senpai.  I’ll be fine.”

 

                He should’ve been suspicious when Kyouya didn't voice a protest, helping him to class instead.

 

                That evening though, when Nari came home two hours after Tsuna had been dropped off by a livid Tetsuya, his brother was sporting two black eyes, a swollen nose, a split lip, a limp even more pronounced than Tsuna’s, and was clutching his ribs with every step.

 

                Nana had dropped the plate she had been holding upon seeing him and had only paused long enough to grab her keys before escorting Nari to the car.

 

                When she asked what had happened, Tsuna’s brother didn't even glance in his direction.

 

                Nari never breathed a word about Hibari Kyouya, and the next day at school, Tsuna strode right up to the socially-stunted, widely-feared, violence-prone prefect and hugged him.

 

                If Kyouya’s shirt was wet when Tsuna pulled away, neither of them said anything.

 

**{3}**

 

                Nari was very, very careful to avoid Tsuna for at least the next few weeks.  His mom even insisted he stay home after he had returned from the hospital, which was a relief because he could tell all his friends he had been sick and not beaten up – that was just uncool.  Hibari hadn't told him not to tell anyone about their run-in with each other – or rather, the prefect had literally hunted him down after school and... Nari really didn't want to think about it – but even Nari knew when to hold his tongue.

 

                The problem, he had quickly figured out, was that he hadn't planned far enough ahead.  He should’ve prepared for the worst possible outcome – that Tsuna would survive the blast well enough to tattle on Nari.  The fact that Nari hadn't arranged for this result also meant that he couldn't try again because he’d be Suspect Number One-and-Only on Hibari’s murder list if Tsuna was badly injured or killed.

 

                But Nari had been quick to take advantage of the fact that Tsuna was such a wimpy loser that he allowed Nari to do whatever he wanted when Hibari wasn't around as long as it wasn't too obvious.

 

                It also helped that Nana didn't care about Tsuna at all.  Even when Nari had ‘accidentally’ spilled hot tea on his brother, their mother had only fussed over Nari’s hands, which had still been bruised from his clash with Hibari – a perfect excuse for his uncharacteristic clumsiness.

 

                And, no doubt not wanting to make Hibari leave him for being even more of a failure than he already was – Nari didn't think for one second that that certifiable lunatic could feel guilty so it wouldn't be that – stupid Tsuna hadn't told the prefect about the two occurrences.

 

                It was almost perfect.  The only thing that would make Nari’s life better was if he didn't have to deal with Tsuna at all.

 

**{3}**

 

                The retribution Kyouya had dished out didn't mean everything was okay again.  Tsuna was skittish at best every time he was back in the Sawada household, and he got little to no sleep on the few nights he actually went home at all.  Most days, Kyouya would simply haul him back to the Hibari residence and refuse to let him leave.  The only reason Tsuna went home at all was for...

 

                Well actually, he didn't know what reason he had, only that he still felt obligated to be seen a few times a week by his mother.  Nana hardly ever bothered to cook him breakfast or lunch anymore, even when he was there, and the one time she had said more than a few words to him at a time had been to scold him for putting Nari in danger.  Tsuna found it highly ironic that the first time Sawada Nana actually acted like a parent and reprimanded one of her children for a wrongdoing, it was towards him.

 

                “Is it attention you want, Tsuna?”  Nana had frowned.  “This isn’t the way to go about it.  You could've seriously hurt Na-kun!  I don’t know where I went wrong with you.  Mou, if only you could be like your brother.  I’d certainly have an easier time with two of Na-kun.”

 

                Tsuna had wanted to scream.

 

                Nari himself had taken to avoiding Kyouya like the prefect was the devil himself, but at home, after a few weeks of keeping his distance, Nari did everything he could to bully Tsuna, attempting to trip him or shove him down the stairs, and, twice, even spilling hot tea all over him.

 

                It was nowhere near as serious as the explosion incident, and Tsuna didn't want to trouble Kyouya anymore than necessary, so he didn't breathe a word about the harassment.  It seemed like all he ever did was depend on the prefect.

 

                And now, after another hectic day of running from Nari and his friends and using everything Kyouya had ever taught him to defend himself (but Tsuna wasn't good enough yet to beat eight-against-one odds and come out unscathed) yet still getting cornered and hurt since neither Kyouya nor Tetsuya had been there with him, here he was, no plan in mind whatsoever and standing outside in the backyard at three-thirty in the morning in the middle of February with his cell in hand and the number that Iemitsu had left with the three of them, along with a warning that they shouldn't call unless it was a severe emergency, waiting to patch through.

 

                Maybe, if he was very, very lucky, his father might be able to talk some sense into Nana and Nari once he came home and saw what was going on.  The man had to come home; Tsuna was certain that just words wouldn't make Iemitsu believe him.  Telling his dad over the phone was just asking to be dismissed as a child who wanted attention.

 

He couldn't just say, ‘Dad, Nari tried to kill me.  There’s no evidence but you should believe me anyway, just because.’

 

Yeah, that’d go over well.

 

                _“Nana?  Is something wrong?”_

 

                It took a moment for Tsuna to remember how to start a conversation.  “D- Dad?”

 

                _“...Tsuna?  Did something happen?  Where’s your mother?”_

 

                Tsuna drew in a trembling breath.  “Dad, could you- could you come home?  I- I miss you.”

 

                A long silence ensued.  _“Tsuna, is there an emergency?”_

 

                _Yes!_   Tsuna couldn't seem to shape the word into existence.

 

                “No,” He said numbly.  “I just miss you.  Can’t- Can’t you come home, Dad?”

 

                Iemitsu sighed.  _“I’m sorry, Tsuna.  I’m working right now.”_

 

                “Please, Papa,” Tsuna refused to call this begging.  “I’d really appreciate it if you came home.  I- I _need_ you here.”

 

                A shout and a crack that sounded chillingly like a gunshot came from the other end.  Iemitsu sounded distracted when he spoke again.  _“Listen, Tsuna, I’ll call you back later.  Papa’s_ really _busy right now.  I’ll call you back; I promise!”_

 

                The line went dead before Tsuna could get another word in edgewise and his hand dropped from his ear as he stared sightlessly ahead at the row of trees lining the far side of the yard.  At the moment, he didn't even care that Iemitsu had probably hung up for a very good reason this time.  His last hope had just left him.

 

                He didn't know how long he stood there for, but he eventually made his way back inside, almost tripping over the threshold of his bedroom as he shuffled towards his chair, not daring to touch the new bed in the corner.

 

                He sat down, and he wondered exactly what he was doing here.  If he stayed any longer, sooner or later, Nari was going to gather enough courage to try again, and this time, Tsuna just might die.

 

                His family was screwed up but he didn't want to die just yet.

 

                If he stayed, dying was a very real possibility, and he just-

 

He couldn't live like this anymore.  He _wouldn't_.  Staying in this house wasn't an option.  Staying at Kyouya’s house didn't mean he was safe from his brother on the streets – Nari and his ever-growing multitude of friends had already proven capable of trapping Tsuna, and one day, a year or two or three from now, Tsuna wouldn't be able to walk away from those confrontations.

 

He couldn't stay.

 

                He swallowed hard and forced himself to calm down and think things through logically.

 

                Money.  He had money.  Except for birthday and Christmas presents and some food on occasion, he had saved up every last yen Nana had ever given him for pocket money, something that he had had to remind her of since he was eight years old.  The birthday and Christmas money from his father was still stored in a box in his closet behind lock and key, and for the first time, Tsuna was grateful for the huge amounts Iemitsu always sent home to make up for the missed holidays.

 

                Food.  Well, there were snacks downstairs, but he had the money for it and he knew how to cook; not on Nana’s level but better than average.

 

                Clothes.  He had plenty, but if he was really going to do this, he’d have to choose what to bring based on practicality.

 

                Destination.  Anywhere but here.  Anywhere he wouldn't be found.  His mother wouldn't care, and his brother would be ecstatic, but his father might look for him if he found out, and Tsuna would be dragged back to Namimori because Iemitsu would never believe Tsuna’s accusations without hard proof.

 

                Passport.  Would he need a passport?  Yes.  Duh.  And lucky for him...

 

                He pulled open a drawer, digging underneath papers and notebooks and flipping to page seventy-two in his encyclopedia to withdraw the fake passport he had made just to see if he could a year ago.  All the information on it was fake – Hyuuga Ieshige from Tokyo, born a few years earlier than Sawada Tsunayoshi so that he would be thirteen now, which was also a year above the required age of _not_ being an unsupervised minor on a plane – and his picture had only been slightly adjusted.  Tsuna was no longer as small, and if he amended his posture and expression a certain way, he could realistically pass for a short thirteen-year-old.

 

                Standing up, he started packing.  All his money, but only a few books.  As much as he regretted leaving them behind, he couldn't exactly take his mini library with him.

 

                Clothes – pack warm, pack light.  And his scarf, of course.

 

                What else?

 

                Kyouya.

 

                Yes.

 

 _No_.

 

No, he couldn’t just up and leave without saying a single word to his closest friend.  Kyouya would tear Namimori apart in search of him.  He’d tear _Nana_ and _Nari_ apart, period.

 

                He swiped up his phone again.  Kyouya answered after three rings, a hint of a sleepy drawl still lingering in his voice.

 

                _“What is it?”_

 

                No use dodging that question.  “I’m leaving.”

 

                Dead silence.

 

                Tsuna babbled out his intentions before he could stop himself.  “I can’t stay here anymore; I'm going to get killed one of these days.  I know how to take care of myself, I’ve got money, I’ve got a useable passport, and I know more languages than probably everyone in Namimori combined.  I’m leaving.”

 

                He waited nervously for Kyouya to say something.

 

                _“Where are you?”_   The prefect asked at last.  His voice sounded odd now, filled with something Tsuna couldn't identify and not a touch of lethargy in it.

 

                “At- Still at the house,” Tsuna glanced around.  “I’ve finished packing.  I’m just about to-”

 

                _“Stay where you are,”_ Kyouya was all business now, and there was a rustling sound on his end.

 

                Tsuna shook his head even though Kyouya couldn't see it.  “I’m not- I’m not staying, Kyouya.  I- You’re my best friend, you know, but- I just can’t stay here.  Namimori’s not _my_ home.  If Nari doesn't get me here, he’ll get me on the streets.  You can’t always be with me; you’re moving up to middle school next year!  And I’ve- I’ve depended on you for far too long-”

 

 _“You don’t think it works both ways?”_   Kyouya cut him short.  _“You don’t think I dep- ...It works both ways, Tsunayoshi.”_

 

                Tsuna’s mind blanked for a moment.  “Wh- What?  No it doesn’t!  I've done nothing for you!  We both know you don’t _need_ those English lessons, and Italian is just for fun.  You’ll get the full hang of those flames eventually, and even what you’ve done so far you did on your own for the most part.  You’re really strong, you take care of me, and you handle everything so well-”

 

                _“You are my conscience,”_ Kyouya interrupted yet again, tone crisp and adamant.  _“You hold me back whenever I might go too far.  The Hibari name holds weight in this city, but even I am not entirely above the law, and as strong as I am, not even I could take on all the yakuza in this city alone if they decide to band together, or not get arrested if I end up with a second-degree murder charge.  The only reason I haven’t been detained is because the ones I attack are criminals themselves, and the Namimori police know what Hibaris do.  Without you, I would’ve probably pushed them into desperate actions, or outright slaughtered them, and they would’ve become even more unruly in the long run.  So whether you were aware of it or not, you were the one who taught me restraint, and yet still allowed me to run free.  That is not ‘nothing’, Sawada Tsunayoshi.”_

 

                Tsuna actually had to pull his phone away from his ear to stare at it in disbelief.  Had Kyouya ever said that much at any one time?  And about feelings no less?

 

                A warm glow fluttered in the pit of his stomach.

 

                _“Stay where you are for another...”_ A distant thump carried over the line.  _“Forty minutes.”_

 

                Tsuna frowned.  “Why?  If you're not going to stop me, then...”

 

                _“I am asking for you to give me forty minutes,”_ Kyouya repeated.  _“Will you wait for me?”_

 

                Tsuna bit his lip.  “Yeah, alright.  Forty minutes.  I’ll be at the front gate.”

 

                Kyouya hung up without saying goodbye.  Tsuna exhaled through his nose and closed his phone as well, shrugging on his coat and wrapping his scarf around his neck before picking up his bag.

 

                He took his time moving through the house, taking one last look at everything, and wasn't even surprised when he realized that he would miss none of it.  This was not his home.

 

                He waited inside by the window, not so dense as to stand around outside for over half an hour.

 

                A minute before the forty-minute mark, Tsuna stepped out the front door, locking it behind him one more time before leaving the key under the mat.  He wouldn't need it anymore.

 

                Fifty seconds later, Tsuna squinted through the lamp-lit night at the two figures approaching him at a steady pace.  “Kyouya-senpai... and Tetsu-senpai?”

 

                “I can’t believe you called Kyouya-san but not me,” Tetsuya complained, the teasing note in his voice balancing out the sobriety.

 

                Tsuna smiled somewhat weakly at the older boy.  “You came all this way to say goodbye?  I could've called-”

 

                He had raised his phone in emphasis so Kyouya quite easily plucked it from his hand.

 

                “Excuse me,” The prefect said, and then smashed the phone against the wall beside them.

 

                Tsuna’s jaw dropped open.  “S- Senpai?”

 

                “Mafia father,” Kyouya said grimly.  “On the off-chance that woman tells her husband, I don’t want us to be traced.”

 

                It took ten seconds for Tsuna to connect ‘us’ to his brain and his brain to his mouth.  He blamed it on the cold.

 

                “Wait, _what_?”  Tsuna spluttered.  The large bag slung over Kyouya’s shoulder suddenly made a lot more sense.  “What do you mean ‘us’?  I’m going alone!”

 

                “You’ll go alone over my dead body,” Kyouya said in a voice that brooked no argument.  “I’m coming with you.”

 

                The prefect’s voice overrode any objections Tsuna tried to make.

 

                “I have already withdrawn both of us from the school databases,” Kyouya continued evenly, holding out a hand for the sheaf of papers that Tetsuya was carrying.  “As far as they’re concerned, as of twenty-five minutes ago, we’ve transferred to a school in Okinawa.  I'm sure many of them will be relieved.”

 

                Kyouya paused for a moment to allow a self-satisfied smirk cross his face.

 

                “These will be turned in to the school faculty in the morning,” The prefect handed a few sheets of paper to Tsuna.  “Basically, it’s written confirmation for the transfer.  It already has the woman’s signature on it.”

 

                Tsuna eyed the bottom of the last page.  “...That’s forged.”

 

                Kyouya didn't look the slightest bit contrite.  “Yes.”

 

                Tsuna stared for a moment longer and then handed the paperwork back without a word.  Something a lot like approval flashed in Kyouya’s eyes.  The prefect made to continue but Tsuna cut in before he could.

 

                The only thing Tsuna could think of at this point was their conversation all those months ago.

 

                “You love Namimori!”  Tsuna exclaimed anxiously.  “You said this is your home!  If I can help it, I'm not coming back, Senpai, _ever_.  I-”

 

                He was cut off when Kyouya glanced sharply at Tetsuya and the middle-schooler instantly backed away without question, moving across the street to give them some privacy.

 

                For a long minute, Kyouya simply stared at him, unblinking and unreadable as Tsuna fidgeted a little under the older boy’s gaze.

 

                Only when Tsuna opened his mouth did Kyouya stir at last.

 

“I lied,” The prefect informed him candidly, hands slipping into his coat pockets.

 

Tsuna blinked at him.  “Eh?”

 

“When I told you that nothing could make me leave Namimori permanently,” Kyouya tilted his head back to gaze up at the night sky, his breath coming out in misty clouds.  “I lied.”

 

                Tsuna had no idea where this was going.  “Then... what would...?”

 

                Kyouya glanced down, undeniably annoyed now.  “I am _not_ going to say it.  You cannot possibly be this slow on the uptake, Tsunayoshi.”

 

                A second, two, and then it clicked.  Tsuna’s eyes widened.  “ _Me_?  But _why_?”

 

                Kyouya shrugged.  “For the same reason I returned to that roof every day over that first summer.  For the same reason as most of the things I've done in the past-”

 

                He paused.  He looked surprised.  “-three years.  Almost three years now.”

 

                The prefect surveyed Tsuna critically.  “There’s something about you – it’s not just the flames or your intelligence.  You’re... interesting.  You can just barely hold your ground in a fight against other herbivores yet you interest me.  No one else can claim that much.”

 

                Tsuna flushed.  “I’m nothing special.”

 

                “That’s a matter of opinion,” Kyouya hefted his bag briefly.  “That being said, you are still too weak to defend yourself properly against any herbivores trying to kill you.”

 

Tsuna threw his hands in the air.  “It’s not like I’m going to war, Senpai!”

 

“You are the son of a Mafioso,” Kyouya countered bluntly.

 

“And Dad’s not going to send people to hurt me even if he wants to find me!”  Tsuna objected.

 

Kyouya heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “Tsunayoshi, think – your father is head of the CEDEF and part of one of the strongest mafia syndicates in the world.  Don't you think he’s gained at least a few enemies over the years who would stoop to using his children as leverage?  While I couldn't care less about your herbivore of a father or that pathetic herbivore, I’d rather not have you kidnapped.  Again, might I add.”

 

Tsuna’s breath froze in his lungs.  God, he was slow today.  That should’ve been obvious!  But-

 

“I’m not taking you away from your home,” Tsuna said obstinately.  “You love Namimori, Senpai.  You can’t just drop everything and leave because I'm leaving!  I’ll be fine – I can always run-”

 

“Do you believe you can run forever, Tsunayoshi?”  Kyouya’s eyes narrowed.  “I am coming with you.  This is non-negotiable.  I do not understand why you are still protesting.  We made an agreement – an exchange of lessons – and those are not finished yet.  Until you can defeat _me_ , I will not stop teaching you, and until I can speak fluent English and Italian, and control my flames to the degree that you can, I will not allow you to stop teaching me.”

 

Tsuna clenched his hands.  “We can keep in contact and I’ll continue the katas you taught me-”

 

“We both know it is not the same,” Kyouya was glaring at him now.  “Even if you left without me now, you would be foolishly naive to believe I would not follow.”

 

“What about your parents?”  Tsuna argued, clutching at straws.

 

Kyouya looked blank.  “What about them?  If they wish to know, Tetsuya will tell them.  Otherwise, I do not see how they will have a problem with this.  You know what my family is like.”

 

“This is your home!”  Tsuna exploded.  “I’m not going to force you to leave it!”

               

                Kyouya stared at him.  A resolute sort of weight had entered his voice when he spoke next, each word deliberate and solemn.  “You are not forcing me to do anything.  This is my choice, Tsunayoshi.”

 

                Tsuna’s heart hammered in his chest as he wondered when it was exactly that he had gained Kyouya’s loyalty like _this_.  Leaving a place that the prefect had always cherished with one word from Tsuna – who _did_ that?

 

                “Namimori will still be here years from now.  If I want, I can always return later,” Kyouya glanced at the watch he was wearing.  “Now, if we have finished this disgustingly emotional heart-to-heart chat, can we please get back to business?”

 

                Tsuna sighed in defeat.  “You’re a stubborn _ass_ , Senpai.”

 

                Kyouya smirked triumphantly.  “I’ll take that as a compliment.  And drop the ‘senpai’ – neither of us are in school anymore.”

 

                He turned and waved Tetsuya back over, handing back the stack of papers.  “Tetsuya will head the disciplinary committee in Namimori – it has already been set up for the most part.”

 

                Tetsuya nodded determinedly, far more confident than when Tsuna had first met the older boy.  Then again, spending large amounts of time with someone as scary as Kyouya and with someone like Tsuna to smooth things over could do a lot for one’s self-esteem.

 

                “I’ll contact you in one month’s time once I'm certain no one will be looking for you,” Tetsuya promised gravely.

 

                “What about a passport?”  Now that Tsuna had relented and accepted the fact that Kyouya was coming with him, something in his stomach calmed and settled, and he could focus better on their priorities.  “We’re probably not going to stay in Japan.”

 

                “I have one,” Kyouya nodded.  “Altered as needed of course.  And these.”

 

                Tetsuya rifled through his pockets and withdrew a new cell phone and a credit card, pushing them into Tsuna’s bewildered hands.

 

                “You don’t have a bank account, do you?”  At Tsuna’s headshake, Kyouya motioned at the items.  “An untraceable phone and a new private account.  And don’t waste time saying you can’t take them.”

 

                “But how did you-?”  Tsuna hesitantly pocketed the phone (later, he’d have to either phone Shiraishi to inform him of an emergency switch of phone numbers or tamper with the thing himself and reroute his original number to this phone and make it so that only certain people would have access to it) as he eyed the credit card.

 

                “I have connections,” Kyouya said simply.  “Or rather, my family has connections.  I’d like to see even Vongola try to trace those.”

 

                Tsuna put away the card as well, silently promising himself to never touch Kyouya’s money unless it was an emergency, and to get a source of income as soon as possible.

 

                “So...”

 

For whatever reason (because really, the prefect – now ex-prefect – had been the one to think of most of the preparations), both Kyouya and Tetsuya turned expectantly to Tsuna.

 

Kyouya raised an eyebrow.  “Where to, Tsunayoshi?”

 

Tsuna took a deep breath.  Well, this was his show in the end.  And no matter what Kyouya said, Tsuna really did depend far too much on the older boy.  He wasn't so arrogant as to believe that he could go at everything alone, but sometimes, he needed to stand on his own two feet.  He needed to take charge, not count on someone else to do all the work for him.

 

“You said Okinawa?”  Tsuna nodded to himself.  “We’ll take a train to Morioka first then.  I don’t want us leaving by plane from Namimori or Okinawa in case someone traces that.  Trains just need tickets.  After that, we’re leaving the country.”

 

Tsuna turned sharply to face the open road, the street extending before him suddenly seeming longer than it had ever been under the moonlight’s glow.

 

“We’ll go to Italy,” A rare smirk pulled at his mouth.  “If my dad does find out and sends people out to look for me, there’s no place better to lie low than right under his nose.”

 

Kyouya only replied with an answering smirk.  “As you wish, Tsunayoshi.”

 

And as they said their goodbyes to Tetsuya, who swept a bow for each of them and swore to take good care of Namimori, Tsuna realized that, with Kyouya beside him and a world of possibilities in front of them, he felt no regret in leaving his hometown behind.

 

**{3}**

 

**[In Messina, Italy]**

 

                “Hey Boss, are you alright?”

 

                Iemitsu glanced up distractedly from his phone as he and his team rested from a night of bullets and fire and a mad chase through the back alleys of Messina.  He thanked several gods he didn't believe in that he had had the foresight to leave Basil behind tonight.

 

                “I’m fine Turmeric,” He caught Oregano’s eye.  “How’s his arm?”

 

                “He’ll be fine, sir,” Oregano reported shortly as Turmeric grumbled under his breath.  “If he’d stop _moving_ , he’ll be even better.”

 

                “I’m good with just fine,” Turmeric groused, and the two broke off into a light banter, mostly just to take their minds off that night’s close shave.

 

                “Didn't your son phone you earlier?”

 

                Iemitsu turned his attention on the tiny figure sitting beside him.  “Yeah, I’ve been trying to reach him but I can’t get through.”

 

                He paused, his frown deepening.  “He used the emergency number.  And...”

 

                Lal Mirch arched an eyebrow.  “And?”

 

                Iemitsu scrubbed an agitated hand through his hair.  “He called me ‘Papa’, Lal.  I didn't really notice until now.”

 

                Lal frowned.  “He’s your son.  What else is he going to call you?”

 

                “Tsuna hasn’t called me ‘Papa’ since he was three,” Iemitsu told her bluntly.  “Nari’s the one who still calls me that on occasion.  Tsuna just calls me ‘Dad’.  And he sounded... desperate.”

 

                “Call home then,” Lal suggested sensibly.  “Kid probably just missed you or something.”

 

                Iemitsu didn't bother telling her that Tsuna was far more independent than Nari and that calling him just because he was missed was something Nari would do, not Tsuna.

 

                Instead, he dialled home, waiting out the five rings it took before his wife’s familiar voice, still drowsy with sleep, answered.  _“Hello?”_

 

                Iemitsu grinned goofily despite the situation.  “Nana, it’s me!”

 

                His wife’s voice immediately lifted.  _“Iemitsu!  I wasn't expecting a call!  Especially this late; is something wrong?”_

 

                Iemitsu forced out a sheepish laugh.  “No, no, I just missed your voice and thought I’d call!”

 

                As Nana giggled on the other end, he caught Lal mock-gagging on his left before she hopped to her feet and wandered away.  Hmph, no sense of romance.  He’d have to hunt Colonello down again and sic the Rain Arcobaleno on her for a week’s leave.

 

                _“Well, I was just sleeping.  Shouldn't you still be in bed too, Dear?”_

“Work ran late.  I’ll be going to sleep soon,” Iemitsu half-lied, glancing around the warehouse that he and his team had taken refuge in.  “By the way, how are the kids?”

 

                _“Oh, Na-kun’s asleep of course.  He had a tiring day today what with soccer practice in the morning.  He’s going to be a great player one day if he decides to go into soccer.”_

 

                Iemitsu winced at that.  He knew that the Ninth was already considering Nari as the next Vongola Decimo.

 

                He glanced around again, knowing that they shouldn't stay for too long in one place just in case their enemies had backup.  As much as he’d like to hear more about Nari’s feats, he didn't have time.

 

                “And what about Tsuna?”  Iemitsu prompted, silently apologetic when he had to cut Nana off.  “How has he been?”

 

_“Tsu-kun?  Oh he’s fine.  I keep telling him to be more like Na-kun but I guess that’s just not possible.  Na-kun is my little prodigy after all.”_

 

                Iemitsu frowned again.  “Tsuna’s smart in his own right, Nana.  He just doesn't show it.  Has he been happy?”

 

                _“Yes, yes, quite happy.  You know how Tsu-kun is – he’s most comfortable by himself so we leave him alone and give him plenty of space.”_

 

                Iemitsu opened his mouth to push a little more.  Something felt wrong here.

 

                But before he could say anything, Lal called from across the room, “Iemitsu, we’ve got incoming – at least ten of them!  We need to go!”

 

                _“Will you be coming home soon, Iemitsu?”_   Nana was asking.

 

                Iemitsu grimaced at her hopeful tone.  “Sorry, Nana, I’m afraid work is busier than ever, but I’ll finish as fast as possible and come home soon.  I love you.”

 

_“I love you too.  Should I tell Na-kun you called?”_

 

Distracted by the growing tension around him, Iemitsu missed the singular reference.  “Sure.  Just give my love to the boys, okay?  Tell them... Tell them their old man won’t be home for a while yet since he’s gone off to become a star.”

 

_Nana giggled again.  “You’re a romantic at heart, Iemitsu.  Alright, goodnight.”_

 

“’Night, Nana,” Iemitsu hung up, sparing a moment to assure himself that Tsuna was alright after all before grabbing his gun and putting the entire admittedly strange incident out of his mind.  After all, Tsuna still had Nana there to look after him.

 

                Three years later, this decision would become one of his greatest regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kama kote – Aikido arm pin; with an inverted grip of the wrist, medial rotation of the arm and shoulder, and downward pressure on the elbow. Common in knife and other weapon take-aways.
> 
> I’m hoping that while Nari is still an ass, he also comes off more... human in this chapter. I tried to flesh him out a bit by writing in his pov.
> 
> Also, like I said, Yamamoto isn’t going to appear for a while yet. I’ve already planned out his entrance but it won’t be until Tsuna and Kyouya comes back.
> 
> Alright, so Tsuna’s childhood years are done! The next three years before Reborn arrives in Namimori are very important – Tsuna will be picking up people left and right *grin*, so that’ll take at least a few chapters. Lots of twists to come, hopefully unexpected, and the next chapter will start six months after Tsuna and Kyouya has left Namimori.
> 
> And just a warning: my reading break’s over so I won’t be able to post chapters every few days anymore. Next chapter of anything will take a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
> 
> Author’s Notes: Yamamoto’s one of the ones appearing last so it’s pretty safe to assume that that goes the same for Ryohei.  
> Right, so, I’ve written and rewritten and rewritten this over and over again, and this is the version I’ve finally decided on. At first, I was going to write all about Tsuna and Kyouya’s time in Italy, but then I realized that that could quite easily take up another five chapters, and nobody really wants that, so I’ve decided that I’ll just add bits of it in as the storyline moves along. For now, I’m hoping I can fit a more summarized version within maybe two chapters.

**[Six Months Later / In Florence, Italy]**

 

                “You really are just kids!”

 

                Tsuna sighed, rustling the pages of the book he had placed on his face to block the light as he lied on the couch, one arm tucked under his head.  “If I had a euro for every time I heard that...”

 

                Several feet away, Kyouya’s silkily dangerous voice sounded in accented Italian.  “If that’s a problem, you can leave, herbivore.”

 

                Tsuna choked back a laugh.  Sometimes, he wondered if they should stop taking turns greeting their potential customers and just let him do all the talking.  Kyouya was simply incapable of keeping insults, subtle or otherwise, at bay.

 

                But they hadn't been doing too badly over the past four months since they had started this business.  In fact, Tsuna couldn't have been happier with his life right now.

 

                Six months ago, he and Kyouya had left Namimori behind, first taking a train to Morioka before flying out straight to Italy.  They had landed in Pescara, and then spent the next month moving from city to city, never staying for long in one place until Tetsuya had contacted them at the end of the month at the agreed-upon time.

 

                There had been no flags raised, neither Nana nor Nari doing anything out of the ordinary except – and Tsuna had personally never heard Tetsuya sound so disgusted – the latter strutting around school looking wholly ecstatic three weeks _after_ Tsuna had left.

 

Tetsuya had been very apologetic when he had hesitantly confessed his opinion in that Tsuna’s mother and brother hadn't even noticed Tsuna’s absence, probably thinking that he had simply been staying over at Kyouya’s house.

 

                It had hurt, but it had been a distant ache, and Tetsuya’s steely-eyed vow to punish Nari for the slightest of infractions had made even Kyouya look proud.

 

                After that, Tsuna and Kyouya had cracked open a map and put their heads together to decide where to settle down.  Kyouya had flat-out refused any city with remotely foreign-sounding names like Padua and Brindisi.  The ex-prefect’s Italian had gotten better but he had still wanted to live in a city that he could at least pronounce the name of.

 

                In the end, they had chosen Florence, a city they had been to before, stopping there for about a week before moving on to Arezzo, but had also been one of the places they had enjoyed most.  It was one of the larger-populated cities but that just made it easier to hide in.

 

                The hardest part actually hadn't been buying a place while looking like two teens – with Kyouya’s formidable glare pinned on the real estate agent and a glib lie about how their parents were at work and had asked their children (who were both very mature and independent) to handle things, as well as the prompt cheque that Kyouya had written for the man, it had been very easy overall.  When the agent had meekly suggested waiting for their parents, Kyouya had shown him exactly what happened when tonfa met brick wall and the man had fled in a heartbeat.

 

                No, the hardest part had been renovations.

 

                Kyouya had outright rejected the interior design – it wasn't Japanese enough.  Seeing as the architecture was entirely European, Tsuna thought that would’ve been obvious even before they had chosen the place.

 

                On the other hand, Tsuna hadn't wanted to make their house stand out too much.  A traditional Japanese house smack in the middle of Florence was just asking for people to investigate.

 

                So, after much debate and huffy arguments, they had compromised.

 

                Their new home actually only had one floor but, in terms of front to back, it was very long.  Four bedrooms were located at the back, centered together like a large two-room-by-two-room cube with two corridors on the left and right to reach the doors as well as the two bathrooms on either side.  The kitchen was stationed before that and the dining area extended from the kitchen.  The sitting room sat at the front of the house along with a stone fireplace, and the front door of the entire building came at the end of another hallway on the right of said fireplace.

 

                Tsuna had been the first to bring up the necessity of a source of income.  Kyouya had argued that he could always withdraw more money from various other Hibari accounts but even he had sounded reluctant, and Tsuna had known that the ex-prefect, like the rest of his family, disliked depending on anyone else, even if the cost of the flights and house had already strained their shared finances.

 

                So, income, which would mean, since they couldn't exactly go out and find jobs at their age, that an area of the house would need to be sectioned off for business.  That had been where the compromise had come in.

 

                The bedrooms, the bathrooms, the kitchen, and the dining area would be sectored off with sliding shoji doors, leaving the living room free for business.  Kyouya had then proceeded to call in a few professionals to remodel half the house into something that was nearly an exact copy of Kyouya’s house back home.

 

Tsuna had thought that it had looked as if the ex-prefect had sliced out a piece of his home back in Namimori and relocated it here.  Kyouya had been very pleased to hear that.

 

                They had received more than a few odd looks from the framing carpenters and construction workers, but at the same time, the builders had also seemed rather pleased with the challenge given to them, and they had outdone themselves with the foreign renovations.

 

                On the other hand, the living room was kept the same, with its couches and coffee table, though by the time all the redecorating was complete, almost another month had passed.

 

                While Kyouya had seen to that however, Tsuna had been busy thinking up both a name for their future business and _a_ business, something two genius kids could handle.

 

                They had long since decided to hack their way into higher-levelled classes instead of going to school so that had no longer been an issue, and Tsuna wasn't so morally straight to refrain from doing just that.  The idea of school had always been a bit of a joke to him, a refuge from his old house more than a place of learning, so it was no surprise that it wasn't much of a priority for him.  Kyouya hadn't even wanted to attend school in Italy – it was one thing for him to know English and Italian; it was quite another to have to be surrounded by foreign languages day in and day out.

 

                But there also wasn't much that an almost-eleven- and a thirteen-year-old could specifically do for a living.

 

                In the end, Tsuna had decided that if they couldn't do one thing, then they might as well do everything.

 

                A jack-of-all-trades occupation, their skills for hire for any job within reason and a fee adjusted to mirror each one.

 

                Kyouya had arched an eyebrow at this idea before nodding in approval.  (He had later been asked to fill in at a music festival, and to Tsuna’s relief – because he couldn't play an instrument to save his life – the ex-prefect could play the violin amazingly well.)

 

                However, the difficulty that had arisen shortly after they had settled on that idea had been how to go about attracting clients.

 

                First of all, they had needed a name, and after another long round of discussion, Tsuna’s choice of _Firmamento_ – Italian for Firmament, meaning a support or strengthening of something, as well as the sky – had gone up at the front of their house in elegant black writing with a light blue backdrop.

 

                They had also bickered over whether or not to add a tagline to that – after all, most people wouldn't know the first thing about what they did with just Firmamento.

 

Kyouya had proposed something along the lines of ‘We’ll Take Any Job’, but Tsuna had pointed out that they didn't want criminals knocking on their door.  (The thirteen-year-old had smirked at this and assured Tsuna that he was more than capable of biting said criminals to death.)

 

In the end, they had kept it simply as Firmamento, which would leave only the curious to venture inside.  Kyouya had scoffed and said he didn't want to work for idiots who couldn't understand one word anyway.  Tsuna had sweatdropped – he doubted even some of the smartest minds in the world would really connect firmament into meaning a business that would lend support for any job under the sky.  It was vague and cryptic at best.

 

Which was why it had been a very good thing that the money they still had had been enough to cover their expenses for the first jobless month-and-a-half.

 

But soon enough, their first job had wandered in on a Saturday morning in the form of an elderly lady who had, ironically enough, lost her cat.  She had even reported it to the police but they hadn't been very interested, and on her way back home, she had caught sight of their sign and had entered on a spur-of-the-moment decision.

 

That had been the first exclamation of “You’re just kids!” that they had been subjected to, but Tsuna had stepped on Kyouya’s foot before proceeding to make the woman a cup of tea and guarantee the return of her cat.

 

That had taken three days.  Frankly, Tsuna was surprised they had even found the grey ball of fur – Kyouya had been seething by the time they had finally managed to corner the damn thing in a back alley; if it hadn't been for his secret soft spot for small animals, the cat probably would’ve died via tonfa – but Tsuna, as they had come to learn, had a funny knack for finding things, an intuitive feeling that aided quite a bit in their job.  In the end, the old lady had thanked them, paid them, and then went and told her small circle of friends – whom she played bridge with on Friday nights – about their ‘lost-and-found’ profession.

 

It could've been a worse reputation to be known by.

 

Within three weeks, the jobs coming in had picked up, spreading out from just finding lost items once people started coming in with other requests, like weeding a garden or painting a fence or, much to Kyouya’s delight, helping out at a local martial arts institution.

 

One of the trainee instructors there had fallen ill, and another instructor, the son of one of the elderly folks they had helped, had heard about Firmamento and had swung by to see if they knew anyone who could step in for the day.

 

The man had been skeptical when Kyouya had volunteered at once (the thirteen-year-old had spent the better part of that morning hunting down a runaway rabbit and hadn't been in the best of moods to say the least).  All skepticism had disappeared when the ex-prefect had demonstrated his skills by taking down three of the teachers at the school in six minutes flat, and the institution now frequently came back to pay Kyouya – and sometimes Tsuna who, while not on par with Kyouya, was still a decent challenge for some of the lower-levelled students – a hefty sum to stand in as a guest instructor/opponent for a few hours.  In addition to this, the school had even agreed to lend one of the dojos to them so that Kyouya could continue teaching Tsuna.  Their spars were legendary in the establishment.

 

So whether it was finding lost items or cleaning a house or baking a last-minute cake or serving as translators for vacationers (needless to say, that was largely delegated to Tsuna), Firmamento was definitely a success amongst the circle of customers they had managed to reel in.

 

At the moment though, their latest clients – two of them – were unquestionably new ones.  Most of their regulars had learned to ignore their age by now since they had proven themselves to be more than a little gifted in various areas.

 

Tsuna reached up and lifted his book, peering lazily up at the two men standing stiffly by the fireplace.  Kyouya was sitting in the armchair, head propped up against a loose fist as he observed the newcomers with undisguised condescension.

 

“What can we do for you, gentlemen?”  Tsuna spoke up, swinging into a sitting position.  The suits that the men were wearing were high-class, and both gave off a subtly creepy air about them that made Tsuna uncomfortable.  Their eyes were hidden behind sunglasses and, truth be told, they looked like classic mobsters.

 

“We heard that you take on any job given to you,” The one on the right, with several scars running in different directions over his face like patchwork lines, cut in when his companion looked like he wanted to criticize their age again.

 

“Within reason,” Tsuna corrected, leaning forward to eye them more closely.

 

The second man inclined his head.  “Of course.  We have done our own research on you.  We’d like to hire you for one of your presumably... lesser-known talents.  The fake backgrounds are a nice touch, and I believe at least one of you have been hacking into the local college database and slipping into the online courses?”

 

Kyouya stiffened ever-so-slightly at the corner of Tsuna’s eye.  Tsuna didn't even blink; he had always prepared himself for the possibility of getting caught.

 

“And if we turn down whatever job you have for us, you herbivores will hand us over to the police?” Kyouya sneered, looking ready to draw his weapons and take care of this threat in the most permanent way.

 

The man on the left bristled at Kyouya’s tone but the one on the right – older, clearly more experienced – only shook his head briefly.  “I believe your friend has that covered.  We traced you to the college but the hack is set to terminate anything remotely related to it the moment a foreign intrusion enters the equation.”

 

Kyouya’s eyes flickered briefly to Tsuna.  _Really?_

 

A slight smile curved Tsuna’s mouth.  _Of course._

 

“So you need something hacked into,” Tsuna said out loud.  “And let me guess, you don’t want to go to any known hackers in case someone finds out.  Better to get the necessary means to whatever ends you’re aiming for from a completely unrelated source.”

 

The men traded a glance.

 

“You’ll be paid handsomely,” The man on the left – Tsuna dubbed him Tweedledumb – said haughtily.  “It’s a simple enough hack-”

 

“I don’t care if it’s the hardest hack known to mankind,” Tsuna interrupted evenly.  “Like I said – we only take jobs within reason.  I’d like to know some details before we jump onboard.  You can start with who you are.”

 

Tweedledumb’s face reddened and he took a threatening step forward.  “Listen, you punk, what we do is none of your business-”

 

“Then you can leave,” Kyouya interjected smoothly, and he shifted so that a glint of silver peeked out from under his jacket.  “Door’s behind you, herbivore.  You can see yourself out.”

 

Obviously hotheaded to a stupid degree, Tweedledumb wasn't about to take intimidation from a teenager lying down.  He sprang forward and reached for his gun, probably in an attempt to frighten Kyouya into submission, but before the man could draw or his partner could stop him, Kyouya had unleashed a flying tonfa straight towards the man’s hand.

 

Tweedledumb howled when the metal cracked against his appendage and his gun was ripped from its holster, clattering to the ground as the tonfa continued on its course and embedded itself in the stone fireplace behind the man.

 

Tweedledumb swore up a storm, clutching at the hand that the tonfa had clipped, and Tsuna was fairly certain that there had been a touch of purple flames reinforcing the weapon.

 

He sent a faintly disapproving look in Kyouya’s direction.  _We’re going to have to pay for that.  Again._

 

The ex-prefect ignored him.

 

“You little brat-!”

 

“That’s enough!”  The man on the right seemed to glare at his partner from behind his sunglasses and Tweedledumb subsided with a dark scowl.  “I don’t care if you don’t want to work with kids.  If you can’t pull yourself together, you can wait outside.”

 

Tweedledumb glowered but straightened up, sweeping his gun back into his holster with his uninjured hand.

 

The older one – Tsuna privately named him Scarface – turned back, voice cool and brusque.  “You can understand why we can’t give you the full details, but we can give you an overview.  I trust you have guessed that we deal with more... dubious affairs than your average business.  We are part of a small criminal organization, though our efforts are mainly focused on science.”

 

Tsuna mulled this over and stayed quiet.

 

Kyouya had nowhere near that amount of tact.  “So you’re Italian mafia who dissec-”

 

Tsuna cleared his throat loudly and shot a hard look at the older boy.  Sometimes, Kyouya was too direct.  Cutting to the heart of the matter was all fine and dandy, but only when hiding your cards wasn't the better, and safer, option.

 

“We try to stay away from criminal syndicates,” Tsuna said, drawing the two Mafioso’s attention away from Kyouya.  “Not good for business, you know.”

 

Scarface raised a hand, though the tension in the room had spiked.  “Just hear us out.  We’ll be quick.”

 

Tsuna eyeballed them warily but nodded nonetheless.

 

“Three years ago,” Scarface began, and Tsuna caught a trace of tightly-reigned fury in the man’s voice before it was covered up.  “Three of our... Family members were taken from us by another Famiglia, the Torelli, and they wiped out much of our own Famiglia in the process.  We have only just now regrouped and we wish to take back the three that have been captured.  They are only children.”

 

Tsuna’s eyes flickered between the two.  “Children?”

 

Scarface nodded grimly.  “Yes, three of our youngest.  They had much potential which, we suspect, is why the Torelli took them.  What we need you to do is hack into the Torelli’s security network and find out their guard rotations, sensor locations, and so forth.  You won’t even have to take control of any of the cameras.  You just need to get all the information.  We can handle the rest.”

 

Tsuna searched the man’s face and then switched his gaze over to the more expressive one.  A twitch seemed to have developed under one of Tweedledumb’s eye.

 

He glanced at the ex-prefect.  _Well?_

 

A curl of Kyouya’s lip.  _Bite them to death._

 

Tsuna had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes.  Of course – his best friend’s solution to most everything was biting it to death.

 

Kyouya looked almost resigned for a moment.  He had probably noticed Tsuna’s exasperation.

 

The ex-prefect tilted his head.  _Up to you_.

 

And normally, not that this situation was normal in the least, Tsuna would’ve been all for Kyouya kicking these Mafioso out of their house.  But he doubted that the two mobsters would just up and leave now that they had revealed part of their backgrounds.  Tsuna was fairly certain they could win in a fight through both strength and the element of surprise but he was also pretty sure that at least Scarface would be able to draw his gun and put a bullet in one of them before the other could take him down.  If Tsuna turned the job down now, this would only end in a bloodbath.

 

Damn Mafioso.

 

And...

 

He was also worried about the children.  He could tell, instinctively, that Scarface was lying about something, though what he couldn't say.  But if there really were children involved, then Tsuna wanted to help.

 

“And if we get what you want,” Tsuna said at last.  “You’ll save the children?”

 

Scarface’s shades flashed ominously and Tweedledumb’s mouth twisted into a sharp sneer.  "Yes, we will.”

 

 _They’re lying_ , Tsuna thought.  _There are children, but... what are they lying about?_

 

“Four hundred up front, cash,” Tsuna decided, praying that he had made the right choice.  “And another four hundred once we’re done.  And it’s a walk-away – after we hand over what you want, you don’t come here again.”

 

“Agreed,” Scarface held out a hand as he motioned at his partner who drew out several hundreds and tossed them onto the coffee table.  Tsuna stood and grasped the proffered hand firmly.

 

“You need to give us something to start on,” He said as he withdrew.  “A number would be nice, or an email account so I can pinpoint their exact whereabouts and hack into their private network – I’m assuming it’s a private network, right?  So either one would be useful, but the Torelli Famiglia’s location will do.”

 

Scarface smiled, stretching the scars on his face into a grotesque leer.  “We can do you one better – we’ll give you a number and their location.  The Torelli operates out of Verona up in Northern Italy, though we don’t know their exact location.  Overall, they’re a mid-class Famiglia for the most part, strong but not overwhelmingly strong, not too big, not too small.  Their strength lies in battle; their security shouldn't be too hard to crack.”

 

He dug into one pocket and pulled out a folded slip of paper.  “The cell number of one of their lackeys.  Can you work with that?”

 

Tsuna nodded curtly.  He didn't particularly want to know what had happened to the lackey.  “That’s fine.  We have a few other jobs to keep up with as well though, so I want four weeks.”

 

The two men exchanged a look before Scarface smiled again.  “There’s no hurry – we’ll give you five.  Just make sure you deliver.”

 

They saw themselves out.  Kyouya stuck his head out the window to confirm that they were properly gone before shutting it, and then wrenched his tonfa out of the stone it had been lodged in and leaned against one wall to stare at Tsuna.

 

Never a man of many words, the ex-prefect prompted, “So?”

 

Tsuna sat down again and leaned back against the couch.  “He was lying, about something, not sure what.  Didn't like the feeling of them either; gave me the creeps.”

 

“You still accepted the job,” Kyouya pointed out, eyes hardening as he continued.  “I understand that they probably would’ve been unwilling to leave us alive, but this isn’t usually our... area of expertise.”

 

Tsuna shrugged distractedly.  “We help people.  Whether it’s legal or illegal, whether it’s dangerous or safe, I think we should do it.  We stole back that jade necklace for that woman.”

 

“From a fat tub of lard whose security consisted only of disruptive herbivores,” Kyouya said flatly.  “And he wasn't interested in getting it back once I had a proper... conversation with him.”

 

Tsuna grinned wryly despite the situation.  Yeah, that hadn't been a good day for Signore Crudele, but then again, the conniving bastard shouldn't have stolen priceless heirlooms from innocent civilians anyway.

 

“Mafia’s several steps up from that, I suppose,” Tsuna conceded.  “Or down, depending on how you look at it.  But I still think we should do what we can now that we’ve accepted the job.”

 

“Because they mentioned children,” Kyouya said bluntly.

 

Tsuna ducked his head a little but stubbornly held his ground.  “Whether those children were kidnapped or ran away, they’ll need our help eventually, even if it’s to simply tip them off.  We could gather the information anyway; handle things ourselves if things turn out badly.”

 

Kyouya studied him intently.  “We will be entering dangerous territory, Tsunayoshi, and I mean that literally and figuratively.  You talk about children, yet you are one yourself.  I'm at least a teenager-”

 

Tsuna snorted, stiffening indignantly.  “You’re a little over a year older than I am – big difference.  And I’ve _never_ considered myself an actual child.”

 

Kyouya’s eyes narrowed but he conceded this point without comment.

 

“You know how to fight moderately well,” He said instead.  “Your mind is more of a weapon than a hundred guns could ever be, and I will, of course, bite to death any enemies we make, but this is the Italian mafia – are you ready for that?”

 

Tsuna straightened and he met Kyouya’s gaze with a fierce, determined look of his own.  “There are children who are about to get caught in a crossfire between two mafia Families.  If we can prevent that, then I’d do it even if I’m not ready.”

 

He paused, and then retreated a bit, tentatively gauging Kyouya’s reaction.  “Are you- Are you okay with that?”

 

Kyouya heaved a long-suffering sigh.  “Tsunayoshi, I was impressed up until a sentence ago, and then you went and ruined it by regressing into an herbivore again.  You were the one who suggested starting Firmamento – you are our business’ boss.  _Act like it_.”

 

Tsuna scowled at him.  “I don’t want to force you into-”

 

He broke off with a yelp and dodged when Kyouya threw his tonfa at his head, though with significantly less force than he had with Tweedledumb.

 

“I believe we had this conversation six months ago,” The ex-prefect said, irritated now.  “I will bite you to death if you do not stop bringing the issue up.  It’s annoying.”

 

Tsuna sweatdropped.  “Yes, sir.”

 

Kyouya surveyed him suspiciously for a second before closing his eyes in thought.  “...We’ll put everything else on hold in the meantime.  Guard shifts are unpredictable, if only because it’s herbivores doing the job, not computers.  Can you find them and get into their database with just a random number?”

 

Tsuna waved the piece of paper in the air.  “Seven digits, Kyouya; I could find them on the moon.  The rest will be easy enough if I'm careful.”

 

Kyouya smirked sardonically, pushing off the wall.  “Very well, if we are going to do this, I want live surveillance on them.  Schedules on hard drives can always be changed at the last minute by word of mouth.  I’d rather see their habits for myself.”

 

Tsuna sighed, stretching languidly before rising to his feet.  “Late vacation to Verona it is.  We can leave at the end of the week though.  For now, can you dig up everything you can on any big incidents that took place in Italy three years ago?  If Scarface’s sob story checks out, a mafia group being wiped out should make front-page news in the underworld.  For starters, find out what Family our clients are from.”

 

Kyouya nodded once, retrieving his tonfa before heading for the shoji doors.  “And you?”

 

“Me?”  Tsuna stuffed the phone number into one of his pockets before following Kyouya into the back of the house.  “I’m looking into the Torelli.  If they didn't abduct the children and destroy a Family, I want to know why Scarface would say they did.  And if they did, I want to know what else they’re capable of.”

 

**{4}**

 

                “Mm-hm.  Yeah.  Okay.  Thanks a lot, Val.  We owe you one.”

 

                Tsuna hung up just as the train pulled away from the station and began its journey north.

 

                Kyouya glanced up from the files they had compiled over the course of the week.  “Durante?”

 

                Tsuna nodded.  “Yeah.  He told us to be careful, but even he says that the Torelli isn’t the type to hurt children or go after an entire Family.”

 

                Kyouya grunted and returned to the files, absently handing one over to Tsuna.  Tsuna flipped it open, still mulling over the additional information he had learned.

 

                Valentino Durante was the owner of a local bar – Divinità.  He had a policy of no fighting in his establishment, and he certainly had the muscle to enforce his rule, so even Mafioso from opposing Families could go by for a drink if they wanted some down time.  The police left him alone as well.  Val’s bar was neutral ground.

 

The main reason for all this was because he also happened to be an information broker.

 

A gruff but generally friendly, ‘call me Val’ type, the bartender was willing to part with whatever information you needed if you paid for it and respected his territory.  One of the few times someone didn't, Val had made them pay interest, along with an additional trip to the hospital, but not before the idiot had torched part of Divinità.

 

This was three months after Tsuna and Kyouya had started Firmamento, and Val had apparently heard about them from one of his contacts, who had heard about them from his sister, who had heard about them from her cousin, who had heard it from her boyfriend, who taught at the martial arts facility that Tsuna and Kyouya often visited.

 

And when the broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed bartender had walked into Firmamento, a contrasting dancer’s grace to his movements that had instantly put Kyouya on edge, even Tsuna had been a bit flummoxed when Val had only asked them to help fix up his bar.

 

                They had done such a good job repainting and reorganizing everything that Val, after paying them the first time, had offered a trade: they’d come in and help him clean up on Friday and weekend nights in exchange for free information anytime they needed it.

 

                It had been the best deal they had ever made.

 

                “Val said that the Estraneo completely died out though,” Tsuna said out loud.  Two days ago, Kyouya had slapped a month’s worth of paperwork in front of him consisting of all the information that the thirteen-year-old had been able to find about their clients.

 

                Kyouya hadn't been off the mark at all when he had implied dissection.  If Tsuna had had any intentions of handing anyone over to Scarface and Tweedledumb in the first place, it had fled two minutes into the Estraneo file.

 

                “A few must have survived,” Kyouya said.  “And they had enough sense to stay underground until now.  ...‘Strongest Man in Northern Italy’?”

 

                “Hmm?”  Tsuna peered over at the folder Kyouya was reading.  “Oh, yeah, strongest member in the Torelli Family – Lancia.  Orphaned at a young age, taken in by the Torelli, and eventually became one of the Torelli Boss’ personal bodyguards.  He was put in charge of the three kids that the Torelli took in...”

 

                “A year ago, not three,” Kyouya carried on, flipping a page.  “Those herbivores lied about that.  And the kids aren’t kids.”

 

                He plucked out the two photographs Tsuna had managed to pull from one of the cameras on the Torelli estate.

 

“Kakimoto Chikusa and Joshima Ken, yes,” Tsuna cocked his head.  “They’re twelve.”

 

Kyouya arched an eyebrow.  “You’re eleven.  I’m thirteen.  What’s your point?”

 

Tsuna sighed.  “Not everyone’s like us, Kyouya.”

 

Kyouya made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat.  “I imagined five-year-olds, to be honest.  I thought there were three.”

 

Tsuna frowned.  “That’s the weird thing – I couldn't find a single freeze frame of the last boy.  Best I got was a glimpse of blue hair when he was walking beside Lancia-san.  No one’s that lucky; he’s avoiding the cameras on purpose.  Somehow.”

 

“So he’s good enough to not get captured on any camera on the entire estate?”  Kyouya frowned.  “Blind spots?”

 

“No,” Tsuna shook his head.  “Most of the time, he doesn't really walk out in the open, but when he does, either Lancia-san is in the way or the image is too hazy.  I thought it was a malfunction in the Torelli’s network for a while but I’ve upgraded their security and it’s still like that.  The boy’s doing something to the cameras.”

 

“You _upgraded_ a mafia syndicate’s security system?”  If he didn't think it was beneath him, Kyouya probably would have facepalmed.

 

Tsuna grinned.  “Just small things – fixed a couple of glitches, reinforced their firewalls.  They’ll never notice.  They’re not very technologically savvy.”

 

“Compared to you, half the world might as well still be in the Stone Age,” Kyouya grumbled.  Tsuna was very proud; the ex-prefect had made a joke!  He was rubbing off on the taciturn teen after all.

 

“You were right though,” Tsuna said on a more somber note.  “The Estraneo did... experiment on them.”

 

Kyouya said nothing. The only sign of his revulsion was the thin slash that his mouth had become.

 

That was alright.  Tsuna could talk for the both of them.  “Who the heck does that?  Children’s bad enough; using their own children is disgusting!”

 

Kyouya shuffled the photographs back into their file and picked up another one.  His voice was clinically bland when he spoke.  “The world is filled with twisted people.  Some of them hide it; some of them don’t.  At least you're forewarned against the ones who don’t.”

 

Tsuna swallowed and dragged his mind back to the files.  Thinking too long about it made him feel sick, and the worst thing was that this _wasn't the worst thing_.  All they had found was a general idea of what the Estraneo had done.  They didn't know the gruesome facets, and a part of Tsuna hoped that they never would.

 

“Do you have a name for the third boy?”  Kyouya enquired abruptly in a rather transparent attempt to change the topic.

 

Tsuna seized it gratefully.  “Lancia-san calls him Mukuro.  Didn’t get a last name.  Even Val only knew that there are three of them.”

 

Kyouya nodded, gaze sliding to the landscape whizzing by outside and clearly no longer interested in the details.  The ex-prefect had always been too straightforward to care about the complicated side notes – things like names didn't really register on his radar unless they specifically caught his attention or were directly part of his job.  “...Does this train reach Verona?”

 

Tsuna twitched.  “No, we have to switch at Bologna.  One of the station masters told us when I asked.”

 

Kyouya closed the files and placed them on the empty seat next to him before leaning back and shutting his eyes.  “I wasn't listening to that herbivore.  Wake me up when we get there.”

 

Tsuna rolled his eyes and returned to the file in his hands.  And here he thought naps were for toddlers.

 

**{4}**

 

                Ten hours later, they had reached Verona and had spent a solid four hours staking out the Torelli estate.

 

                “As far as mafia families go,” Tsuna remarked, lying flat on his stomach and spying on the latest guard shift patrolling the perimeter through a pair of binoculars.  “This one’s not so bad.”

 

                Beside him, Kyouya grunted an agreement.  “What do you want to do?”

 

                Tsuna considered their options.  Minus the whole mafia thing, the Torelli didn't seem like a bad bunch.  There was an easy camaraderie between them, and the one time the boss had come out – presumably for a breath of fresh air – he had been greeted respectfully and amicably by his men.  Two of the three kids who were supposedly abducted from the Estraneo – Ken and Chikusa – had also made a few appearances, and while the former was downright rude and had an explosive temper, and the latter never spoke, the Mafioso around them took it in stride and continued exchanging the occasional friendly word with them.

 

                The last kid, Mukuro, hadn't been seen thus far though, and neither had Lancia.

 

                Still, Tsuna was convinced that those two Estraneo men had been lying, and that doing anything that might put those three kids back under their control would be an exceedingly bad idea.

 

                So.

 

                “Let’s pass the information on to them,” Tsuna said at last.  “Anonymously of course, but I can pull a few photos of those two Estraneo members from traffic cameras or something as proof that they’re still walking around.  We’ll dig a little further into the Estraneo’s plans, pass it on to the Torelli, and then let them handle it.  Normally, I’d say handle this ourselves but this _is_ the mafia, and I don’t want someone getting wind of two teenagers dabbling in the underworld.  Word might get back to my dad, and Vongola might investigate, especially if this ends with the rest of the Estraneo being wiped out.  We’re better off working behind the scenes.”

 

                Kyouya nodded briskly, getting to his feet and dusting himself off.  Tsuna did the same, creeping further back behind the foliage before rising to his feet.

 

                “Back to Florence then?”  Kyouya enquired as he reached for his duffel bag.

 

                “Yeah,” Tsuna nodded, glancing one last time at the Torelli estate.  “I think I’ll give the bare minimum of the Torelli’s security systems to the Estraneo; just enough to satisfy them.”

 

                Kyouya’s mouth pulled up into a dark smirk.  “I could just bite them to death; problem solved.”

 

                Tsuna was torn between reluctant amusement and uneasy exasperation.  He knew Kyouya didn't have many qualms about actually _murdering_ someone; the former prefect had never killed anyone directly but Tsuna knew for a fact that before he had come along, Kyouya had injured several yakuza to the point where they had died after being transported to the hospital.  “We don’t know how many of them there are, and no guarantees that the rest won’t come after us if two of them go missing.  We leave this to the Torelli.”

 

                Kyouya grumbled half-heartedly but said nothing more as they turned to leave.  They hadn't taken more than three steps before Tsuna stiffened, senses tingling as they yelled a warning.

 

                He shifted his stance, gaze slanting to the right even as Kyouya reacted to his sudden movement, tonfa slipping fluidly into his hands as he dropped his bag and whirled around.  “Kyouya-!”

 

                And then two men burst out from a cluster of trees, one holding a gun while the other – Lancia, Tsuna’s mind supplied – wielded a massive steel ball.

 

                Both seemed momentarily taken aback at the sight of two children, and neither Tsuna nor Kyouya were above taking advantage of it.

 

                They had sparred together countless times, against the other teachers and students at the martial arts facility and against each other, so neither of them had to do more than glance at each other for a split second before they moved.

 

                Kyouya shot forward, one tonfa slamming into Lancia’s weapon head-on before the other swooped in for a head strike.

 

Tsuna didn't see more than that as he skirted around both of them and barrelled into the second man, shoving the gun up so that the instinctive shot triggered harmlessly into the air.  With a deft twist, Tsuna wrenched the weapon out of the man’s hand before spinning on the spot and slamming a foot straight into the Mafioso’s gut.  His opponent was lifted clean off his feet as he tumbled backwards, not stopping until he thudded against the trunk of a tree before slumping at its base, out cold.

 

Tsuna didn't waste time celebrating as he sought out his best friend.  The element of surprise was evidently a positive for them, but even without it, Tsuna doubted that Kyouya would've had much of a problem dealing with Lancia.

 

Tsuna had thoroughly researched the top fighters of the Torelli Famiglia, and passed it on to Kyouya, so they both knew what Lancia’s weapon was capable of.  The trick to beating it was to stick to close combat, and not give Lancia a chance to swing the serpent ball around.

 

Coupled with Kyouya’s own genius at fighting and Lancia didn't stand much of a chance.  The man had managed to dodge the first three blows but the ex-prefect simply leapt into the air, used Lancia’s weapon as a makeshift stepping stone, and flipped clean over the Mafioso’s head, lashing out with another tonfa and catching Lancia’s temple with one decisive strike, using the man’s lesser speed against him.  Lancia was a hard-hitter and a frontline combatant; against Kyouya’s swifter movements, he was at an even worse disadvantage.

 

The Mafioso crumpled to the ground, already unconscious, and by the time Kyouya had swung around to face Tsuna, glancing approvingly at the man Tsuna had taken down in the process, Tsuna already had both his and Kyouya’s bags slung over one shoulder.

 

“Let’s go!”  Tsuna urged, darting away.  “I don’t want the entire Torelli Family coming down on our heads.  We’re good, but we’re not that good.”

 

“Yet,” Kyouya corrected as he raced onwards beside Tsuna, keeping a sharp eye out for anymore enemies.

 

Tsuna’s mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.  “I suppo-”

 

He skidded to a halt, one hand extending in front of Kyouya when the older teen attempted to step in front of him.  “No, wait.”

 

Several feet in front of them, a teen with indigo hair and mismatched eyes stepped out, and Tsuna’s eyes narrowed.

 

_There’s something very dangerous about this guy._

 

“Kufufufufu,” The teenager – undoubtedly Mukuro – smirked at them with a decidedly disturbing air.  “Well, well, what have we here?  Quite a feat for two children to defeat two Mafioso without a single scratch.  I commend you for it.”

 

Beside him, Kyouya bristled and made to step forward again, but Tsuna stopped him with a firm hand against his best friend’s chest.  “Kyouya, _no_.  This guy’s no joke.  He’s dangerous.”

 

Kyouya stiffened, tensing almost imperceptibly at his words.  It wasn't often – never, so far – that Tsuna would go out of his way to stop Kyouya from fighting someone.

 

“Oh?  How perceptive,” Mukuro’s smirk widened as his focus slid over to Tsuna.  “And to whom do I owe the honour of this... flattering compliment?”

 

“No one,” Tsuna said tersely.  “We were just leaving; we mean no harm.  If you’ll be so kind as to step out of the way, we’ll probably never see each other again.”

 

“Now where would be the fun in that?”  Mukuro took a step forward, and his right pupil, with a disconcerting ‘six’ in the middle, suddenly blurred before stopping on a ‘one’.

 

In the next second, the plants around them came alive, vines suddenly becoming hissing vipers before shooting towards them.

 

Tsuna frowned in concentration.  _Those aren’t real.  I don’t know what the heck’s going on but those aren’t real.  At least, not_ real _real, if that makes any sense._

 

                So before Kyouya could retaliate, Tsuna yanked the teen back and summoned his flames.  He hadn't wanted to use them because that might as well be the equivalent of a large neon sign telling people to investigate but he instinctively knew that it would get rid of... whatever this was.

 

                So with only their need to escape in mind, Tsuna released his flames in an explosion of bright orange, and he only just managed to catch a look of unguarded surprise from Mukuro before Tsuna was hightailing out of there, Kyouya hot on his heels as the forest behind them blazed with fire that burned but wouldn't spread.  It cut off anyone who might try to come after them, and Tsuna knew it would buy them enough time to get on the first train back to Florence.

 

                “What was that?”  Kyouya demanded as they sprinted back towards the nearest train station.

 

                “I don’t know,” Tsuna shook his head.  “Illusions, maybe?  I just know that those snakes weren’t real, but that they had the ability to hurt us if we tried to fight against them.  Does that make sense?”

 

                “No,” Kyouya said bluntly as they hurtled through several back alleys before slipping seamlessly onto a busy street.  “You said he was dangerous though.”

 

                “Yeah,” Tsuna thought back to the lethal edge behind Mukuro’s fake smile that had screamed silent threats at him even before the blue-haired teen had attacked.  “He’s not your average teenager, that’s for sure.  And I have a gut feeling that he was the one who somehow found us in the first place.  I don’t want to risk fighting him when we’re not certain of what he’s capable of.

 

                “Let’s head to Ferrara first,” Tsuna added as they approached the train station up ahead.  “And then double back to Padua before heading back to Florence via Ravenna.  It’ll help throw anyone chasing us off our trail.  And I’ll erase our faces from any cameras on the way.”

 

                Kyouya nodded, but tacked on somewhat loftily, “Next time, if we ever bump into him again, I want to fight him.”

 

                Tsuna sighed and made a mental note to try to track down some of the research notes from Mukuro’s years with the Estraneo.  He didn't think he would ever see the blue-haired teen again, not to mention it was a breach of privacy if he _could_ get his hands on any records of those revolting experiments, but he’d rather be prepared than not, and between Kyouya and Mukuro, Kyouya won hands down.

 

**{4}**

 

                “And this is everything?”

 

                “Down to the last bathroom break,” Tsuna quipped with a thin smile, mentally adding, _‘Except we also sent that and everything we have on you and your plans to the Torelli two weeks ago.’_

 

                “Good; our thanks,” Scarface smiled rather grotesquely as he closed the files passed them all to his sour-looking partner.

 

                In one corner, Kyouya stood with his arms crossed, tonfa out of sight but ready.  Tsuna himself sat with his feet planted on the ground, prepared to move at a heartbeat’s notice.

 

                “And our money?”  Tsuna prompted.

 

                “Of course,” Scarface reached into his suit, and Tsuna had to physically stop himself from twitching.  The Mafioso pulled out the other half of the payment and placed them on the coffee table.

 

                “And you never come back here again,” Tsuna reminded them as both turned to leave.  “We don’t like dealing with Mafioso.”

 

                Scarface chuckled silkily.  “We understand.  You won’t see us again once we leave.”

 

                Tweedledumb sneered at Tsuna as they turned for the front entrance, only to stop just inside the living room.

 

                “The thing about Mafioso though,” Scarface continued conversationally as he adjusted his tie.  “We don’t like leaving loose ends.”

 

                And the living room exploded into action.

 

                Tsuna dove to the ground and rolled to the side as Scarface pulled a silencer and planted three bullets into the armchair that Tsuna had been sitting in.  Flicking his wrist, Tsuna hurled a knife at Scarface that the man easily batted aside before firing in Tsuna’s direction once more.  The coffee table shattered and chips of stone from the fireplace ricocheted in the air as Tsuna leapt from furniture to floor and back to furniture again, avoiding the assault as he let his instincts guide him.

 

                Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kyouya clashing with Tweedledumb but couldn't get a good read on how they were doing as Scarface sent another score of bullets over his head, only missing because Tsuna was fast enough to dodge them.

 

                “Stay still, you little brat,” Scarface growled, a flash of frustration staining his expression.

 

                Tsuna’s mouth tilted up.  One of the upsides about living with Kyouya was that when people saw them, they instantly labelled the older of the two of them as the dangerous one and dismissed Tsuna, with his harmless-looking demeanour, as irrelevant if smart.

 

                It never turned out well for some of the crooks they came across in their line of business.

 

                Still, Tsuna was more suited to hand-to-hand combat, so without warning, he grabbed a handful of broken glass, threw them in the general direction of Scarface’s face, and followed the attack by lunging forward and crashing into the Mafioso, toppling the man with sheer momentum.

 

                Scarface only managed to get off one last shot before they landed on the ground in a tangle of limbs, but Tsuna made sure to dig his elbow hard into the inside of the man’s wrist, right below the flexible joint.  The bone snapped under the pressure, and Scarface released the gun on reflex, grunting with pain.

 

                Tsuna didn't expect the other hand to cuff him heavily across the face and send him sprawling across the living room floor.  His head thunked harshly against the floorboards, and his world temporarily tilted as he tried to figure out up from down.  Somewhere to his right, he heard Scarface fumble for something before barking out, “Get some backup in here!  They’re more troublesome than we thought they’d be!”

 

                Tsuna gritted his teeth and hauled himself to his feet, ducking out of the way when a fist came hurtling towards his face.  As it passed, he grabbed the arm and planted a hand against the man’s torso, recalling everything Kyouya had ever taught him about throwing a larger and heavier opponent as he dug his heels into the ground and lifted the Mafioso off his feet, throwing him over one shoulder and onto the ground.

 

                Scarface landed on his back, trying to get up even as all the air rushed out of his lungs, but Tsuna didn't give him a chance, delivering a sharp kick to the Mafioso’s temple.  As Scarface went limp, Tsuna blinked as he was reminded of the same kick Shiraishi had once handed out to one of those yakuza that the white-haired man had fought on the street.

 

                Huh.  Déjà vu.

 

                Exhaling shortly and wiping away a trickle of blood coming from a cut on his cheek, Tsuna turned to find Kyouya just finishing up his fight, a nasty gleam in his eyes as one of his tonfa smashed ruthlessly into Tweedledumb’s throat, unquestionably crushing the man’s windpipe.

 

                Tsuna winced in almost sympathy.  Kyouya was a lot of things but a clean fighter wasn't one of them.  His best friend dealt out punishing bloodbaths, not untraceable assassination hits.

 

                Then again, Tsuna wasn't one to talk, but at least his targets didn't end up as... messy.

 

                “Are you alright?”  Kyouya asked as he carelessly kicked Tweedledumb’s body aside, already scanning Tsuna for any signs of critical injuries.

 

                “I'm fine,” Tsuna assured automatically, hiding a grimace as his adrenaline began to fade and the sting from several piece of glass that had sliced through his clothes and into his skin began to sink in.  His head felt a bit funny too but it didn't seem too bad.  Probably a mild concussion at most.

 

                Kyouya on the other hand had a rip in his shirt and an ugly gash down one arm.  A bruise was already blossoming on his jaw but the way he rubbed at it seemed more irritated than anything else.

 

                “More importantly,” Tsuna continued hastily when Kyouya’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at him.  “Scarface over there called for backup.  They probably have our house in their sights, so my question is: why isn’t there anybody storming the place?”

 

                This sufficiently distracted Kyouya as he strode over and peered out the window between the curtains.  “I don’t see anyone.  Should we go outside?”

 

                “Out the back and around,” Tsuna decided.  “Discretion’s the better part of valour and all that, especially when it comes to an unknown number of enemies.”

 

                They crept out the back door into the yard, silently scooting along the side of the house until they had a clearer view of the front of the house.

 

                “Five... six bodies,” Kyouya reported as Tsuna peered over his shoulder.  “All dead.  Someone took them out for us-”

 

                A rustle in the bushes several feet away interrupted him.

 

                They moved at the same time.

 

                Tsuna dropped to a crouch and sprinted forward, keeping low to the ground as Kyouya twisted and flung his tonfa across the garden and over Tsuna’s head.  A pained cry followed as a man staggered into sight, slumping sideways onto the grass.  Another man rose from behind the foliage but Tsuna was already on him, executing an uppercut that made the Mafioso stagger before finishing him off with a direct kick to one of the man’s legs, sending the intruder to the ground as the knee buckled under Tsuna’s assault.

 

                “Okay, that’s enough!”  A voice boomed out in Italian.  “We’re not here to hurt you or abduct you or anything else your ridiculously mistrustful minds can come up with!”

 

                Tsuna straightened as Kyouya came to stand beside him, both of them keeping both eyes on the handful of Mafioso crawling out of the woodwork.  All of them had weapons, but while clearly wary, they kept said weapons at their sides.

 

                And then one man stepped forward, broad-shouldered and hawk-eyed even in his mid-forties, and even if Tsuna hadn't managed to scrounge up several photos of every member of the Torelli Famiglia, he would've known that this was its boss.

 

                “Can we talk this out?”  The Torelli boss enquired dryly.  He was the only Mafioso in the vicinity who _wasn't_ visibly armed, though that could be due to the fact that Lancia stalked a pace behind him, a severe scowl on his face and his signature weapon in hand as his gaze flickered vigilantly between Tsuna and Kyouya.

 

                “I am Antonio Torelli,” The Torelli boss continued with an easy smile.  “Though I'm sure you already know that.  We’ve taken out the rest of the Estraneo here as a sign of goodwill.  In return, I’ll accept the information you sent us as the same.  So, instead of taking out any more of my men, perhaps we could sit down and talk like civilized people.”

 

                It wasn't really a question or even a suggestion, but Tsuna was more interested in the fact that Antonio had only glanced briefly at Kyouya, not really dismissive but rather cursory, before focusing almost entirely on Tsuna instead.

 

                _‘He thinks I'm in charge_ , _’_ Tsuna realized, which was a hell of a novelty since most people looked to Kyouya first until Tsuna stepped up to do most of the talking.  _‘Well, technically, I suppose I_ am _in charge.’_

 

                Beside him, Kyouya shifted subtly, and Tsuna caught the older teen’s questioning eye.  _Should we attack?_

 

                Tsuna glanced once more at the surrounding Mafioso.  There were eight of them in total, not counting the two they had felled a moment ago.  They were outnumbered and he was injured to boot, though he could still fight.  Kyouya was strong but he wasn’t strong enough to take down a boss, much less all eight of them even with Tsuna’s help before at least one of their potential enemies could plant a bullet in either of them.  In the worst-case scenario, even Tsuna would be hard-pressed to use his flames effectively enough to give both of them adequate time to run away.

 

                He looked again at Antonio, his instincts not ringing any alarm bells.  The Torelli boss wasn't planning to hurt them, at least not in the near future.

 

                Tsuna flicked a brief glance back at Kyouya and surreptitiously shook his head once.  _No.  We’ll talk._

 

                Kyouya’s mouth twisted disdainfully, especially when his gaze moved to Lancia, but his stance relaxed marginally and he lowered his remaining tonfa without further prompting.

 

                Tsuna concentrated on Antonio again.  The man was eyeing him thoughtfully, large frame still languid as he studied Tsuna.

 

                “Well, let’s talk,” Tsuna agreed, and then paused and glanced over at the two men on their lawn, one out cold and the other unable to get up.  “Uh, I guess after you get your guys to a doctor.  In our defense, we didn't know they weren’t Estraneo.”

 

                Antonio snorted with faint amusement before motioning for Lancia to take care of his two fallen men.  Lancia looked reluctant to part more than three steps from his boss but Antonio waved him away and strolled forward alone.

 

                Tsuna sighed quietly and shrugged his shoulders a bit, wishing he had time to see to his own injuries.  But he wasn't about to let the Torelli boss out of his sight, no matter how laidback the man seemed.

 

                It was going to be a long day.

 

**{4}**

 

                Antonio liked to think that his Famiglia was of the fairly decent sort for the underworld.  He kept his men away from dealing with drugs and those slave trades that everybody said didn't exist anymore in this day and age but actually still did, and he never agreed to alliances with far too powerful Families; it never ended well for middle ground, neutral syndicates like his.

 

The Vongola was a prime example.  The Torelli, while not one of the top powerhouses in the criminal world, was no slouch either.  They were nowhere near as technologically advanced as, say, the Bovino, but they had some of Italy’s best fighters (Antonio still couldn't believe Lancia had lost, and to a kid at that; he had put it down to luck, surprise, and prodigious skill on the kid’s part).

 

But the thing about powerful Famiglias like the Vongola was that no matter how nice their members seemed (the Nono was as grandfatherly as they came), you didn't get to stay top dog – basically meaning most respected and most feared – in the mafia without a certain manipulative cunning and ruthlessness that would make hardcore cutthroats look like saints.

 

Antonio was a straightforward – mostly; he had his moments – person; he said what he meant, and meant what he said.  Occasionally, he kept some things unsaid when it looked like holding back a few cards was the smarter option; better safe than sorry.  His Family didn't have all that many enemies, and any hitmen sent to assassinate him were dealt with swiftly – beaten up and sent back or killed; no torture.  Torture was just troublesome in his opinion.  He had better things to do than make people scream and cry, and dinner never did taste the same immediately afterwards.

 

So when some of his men had come across three children a year ago in the bloody carnage of one of the few remaining pocketfuls of Estraneo bases, Antonio had figured what the hell.  The kids clearly had nowhere to go, it would be nice for the Torelli to gain some new blood, and no one had contested it either since everybody preferred to keep well away from the sickening experiments that the Estraneo carried out, which, unfortunately, included the kids that had been experimented on.

 

Of course, Antonio had ordered a sweep of the area where the kids had been found, just in case there were anymore Estraneo running around.  They’d found a few, and had dealt with them accordingly, but, obviously, they hadn't gotten all of them.

 

A week and a half ago, when the files had arrived in the mail, Antonio had had to reread them several times over to believe what had been sent to him.  Lancia had reported two weeks before that of the two children who had been spying on them, as well as the Dying Will flames – signature power of the Vongola Famiglia and its allies – that had stopped them from following the two intruders.

 

After making sure Mukuro was safe and scolding him for following Lancia out there in the first place, Antonio had instructed everyone to have their guard up and an ear out for rumours of an assault.  Imagine his shock when the files had arrived, detailed with everything from security tapes to photographs to meticulous research and best guesses into the Estraneo’s plans.  There was even a note at the end admitting to a deal made between their anonymous tippers and the Estraneo that they felt was too dangerous to back out from, and when they would have to give up certain information.

 

Antonio had known instantly that the files had come from the two children but he hadn't wasted time ordering anyone to hunt them down.  The Estraneo took greater priority; the Torelli’s three newest additions would never be safe so long as any Estraneo member was alive.

 

The Torelli had their own eyes and ears everywhere, and they’d soon traced whispers of a man matching one of the pictures that had been sent to them back to Florence.  Obviously, the Estraneo was connected to the two children; find the Estraneo, and Antonio would find the children.  For all that their young mysterious allies were turning out to be quite the geniuses, they were still inexperienced with the mafia life and hadn't been able to cover all their tracks, not to mention they would've been able to find out even more if they had had contacts in the underworld.

 

And then, after discovering the Estraneo’s temporary hideout, Antonio had originally planned two hits on the day that his Famiglia’s security systems would be exchanging hands – one on the hideout (which had been carried out quite smoothly) and another on the group of Mafioso they had tailed all the way to an establishment named Firmamento.

 

They had silently taken out all the ones left outside, and Antonio himself had been about to lead the assault inside when the frantic voice of one of the two Mafioso who had entered had come over one of the two-way radios, calling for backup of all things.

 

Antonio had _not_ expected another win in the children’s favour, and had almost facepalmed when said children had attacked two of Antonio’s men.  Luckily, they hadn't been badly hurt.

 

(The black-haired one at least looked the part, lethal and predatory; the brown-haired one looked... unreasonably cute for someone who had helped take down two armed men, yet it was unmistakeable to Antonio just which of the two was the leader, especially when the black-haired teen looked to the brunet for instructions.)

 

And now here he was, the bodies inside Firmamento having been cleared out and the glass swept up before the brunet – _just call me Tsuna; only Kyouya calls me Tsunayoshi_ – had made tea for all of them.  Antonio would've preferred coffee or brandy but he was a guest so he figured he could let it pass without complaint, not to mention they were underage and wouldn't have alcohol anyway.

 

Another half hour later (after Antonio had insisted that they at least see to their own injuries first while he stood within their ever-suspicious line of sight), most things had been cleared up on both sides.  Antonio still had to ask, “But why did you help us?  Wouldn't it have been easier to just hand over the information and keep your heads down?  Granted, you might’ve had your work cut out for you if we hadn't taken down the men outside but I know you’re more than capable of escaping if you put your mind to it.”

 

Tsuna blinked at him, glanced at his glowering friend – _you can call him Kyouya; pay no mind if he glares at you_ – and then looked back at Antonio once more.

 

“There were children involved,” The brunet said slowly, looking honestly perplexed as to why Antonio was asking at all.  “And frankly, those Estraneo guys were just plain disturbing.”

 

Antonio hid a smile.  Honesty was so refreshing sometimes, especially in a world woven by lies.

 

He mulled over what he had seen of these two boys’ fighting styles, the wonderful job they had done with the files, and the obvious intelligence each of them possessed.

 

“Okay,” Antonio smiled winningly at them, inwardly chuckling at the irritation further creasing Kyouya’s brow.  “You've proven yourselves to be quite the pair.  Wanna join my Famiy?”

 

Antonio thoroughly enjoyed the double-take Tsuna sketched, as well as the incensed glare Kyouya shot at him.  “I'm very serious.  You both have a lot of potential.  And you already know there are kids your age in my Family.  You're very good at what you do; you could become some of the best in the underworld with some experience and training.”

 

“I follow no one,” Kyouya interjected with a condescending sneer.  “Least of all a mafia boss.”

 

Antonio stared idly at the black-haired teen.  He supposed it went without saying that Tsuna was the exception to that statement.  And he wasn't really surprised by the reply anyway since-

 

“You don’t happen to be a Hibari, do you?”  Antonio ventured, and nodded to himself when Kyouya stiffened.  “Thought so.  I know one of your relatives.  Contracted her for a hit once.  She did an excellent job.”

 

The teens exchanged a glance filled with unspoken words and subtle gestures; Antonio spared a moment to admire their evident friendship.  You didn't see many like that these days, the sort that simply clicked with one another whether in battle or not.

 

“I’ll have to decline your previous offer,” Tsuna told him as Kyouya leaned back again.  “We have no interest in the mafia; this was just a one-time thing that got a bit out of hand.”

 

Antonio nodded.  This had also been something he had expected, though he figured leaving the offer out there wouldn't do any harm.

 

“Still, I believe keeping in contact could benefit both of us,” Antonio persisted, putting aside his tea – he hadn't been able to take more than one sip; tea really wasn't his thing – and reaching for a pen and a notepad in his coat.  “An outside alliance if you will.  You have talents I might need, and the Torelli Famiglia could be an asset to you if you ever run into any more trouble.”

 

He tore off a page with a number and an email address on it and held it out to Tsuna.  “How about it?  We can start now.  My men made a mess on your front lawn – it’s a miracle we’ve managed to cover it up for the most part but civilians can be absurdly oblivious when they want to be – and your house is pretty messed up too.  I’ll pay for all the renovations, replace anything that needs to be replaced, I’ll even throw in a new paintjob, and in exchange, you can help upgrade my security systems.”

 

There was a heartbeat’s silence, and then Kyouya scoffed.  Antonio raised his eyebrows when Tsuna coughed, looking mildly embarrassed.

 

“I... kinda already did,” The brunet admitted.  “Upgrade your security systems I mean.

 

“I couldn't leave them like that!  They were _offensive_ to look at!”  Tsuna tacked on defensively when Antonio continued staring at him.  “They weren’t exactly _good_ security systems so I figured I could tweak it a little and make it so that your average hacker wouldn't be able to get in.”

 

Antonio couldn't help it.  He burst into laughter.

 

Oh this was rich.  He was liking this boy more and more.

 

“Guess I’ll have to pay up then,” Antonio grinned, leaning forward to study the boy more closely.

 

Frankly, Tsuna was intriguing.  Antonio had suspected it when he’d first seen the boy outside, the way Tsuna had instinctively zeroed in on him as the greatest threat despite the fact that he was the only one _not_ holding a weapon, and coupled with the Sky flames that had lit up his estate’s surrounding greenery like a beacon, he was even more convinced.

 

This kid had Vongola blood.

 

But Tsuna wore his emotions on his sleeve, and any Vongola worth his salt would've had that drilled out of them long ago, so Antonio was inclined to believe that the kid really didn't have much to do with the mafia at all before this situation had cropped up.  Not to mention Vongola operated out of Messina in Sicily.  Florence was too far north for any truly effective operation to be carried out.

 

“You don’t have to-” Tsuna was saying.

 

“-but we’ll take it,” Kyouya cut in, smirking with satisfaction.  Antonio held back a snicker when Tsuna rolled his eyes at the black-haired teen.

 

“Good,” Antonio extended the piece of paper again, and this time, Tsuna accepted with only the slightest of hesitations.  They all rose to their feet, Antonio extending a hand towards his temporary host.  The brunet’s own hand was ludicrously small compared to his as they shook.

 

 _New generation’s getting younger every year_ , Antonio thought somewhat ruefully.

 

Out loud, he only added humorously, “And next time you come to visit, do try using the front door instead of setting my home on fire.”

 

He released a loud bark of laughter as Tsuna spluttered wordlessly in his wake, and Kyouya blistered his retreating back with a scowl that would've done Lancia proud.

 

Geniuses they may be but they were still fledgling little brats.

 

**{4}**

 

**[Four Weeks Later]**

 

                “We’re open!  Come on in!”  Tsuna called out, putting down the morning paper when the doorbell rang.  People usually walked right in, especially a regular, but some were more diffident when entering their workplace.

 

                He rose to his feet to greet their newest customers, and then froze in his tracks when an unsettling feeling crawled up his spine.  A second later, four familiar people trekked in.  Three of them were, puzzlingly enough, carrying duffel bags.

 

                “Good morning, Lancia-san,” Tsuna began, making sure that his voice carried.  Lancia’s face was set in a frown but Tsuna was beginning to think that that was his default expression.  “How may I help you?” 

 

                Behind Tsuna, the shoji doors slid open, and he could feel Kyouya’s ire instantly spike.

 

                Before Lancia could speak, the blue-haired boy beside him stepped forward, mismatched eyes glinting.  Behind him, Ken and Chikusa flanked him like teenaged bodyguards.

 

                “Hello, Tsunayoshi-kun,” Mukuro purred in fluent Japanese, smirking even as Kyouya stepped forward threateningly.  “In the spirit of the new alliance you made with the Torelli, our boss and Lancia-senpai here both agreed with me when I suggested some... bonding time between us younger kids.

 

“So,” Mukuro’s smirk widened.  “We’ll be staying here with you for a while.  I hope we all get along.”

 

Tsuna could only think of one thing at this point, especially when Kyouya looked near homicidal at his side.

 

                _Oh shit._

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this wasn't really summarized, but I had to write out how everything started, and then Mukuro decided to barge into the chapter and refused to leave. He’ll be the only one with his story more or less revealed though; any others will be much shorter, and they’ll be several timeskips in the next chapter. I’m hoping I can get back to the anime storyline by the end of it.


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